


Fallen to the Deep Blue Sea

by Onity



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anduin doesnt know how to deal with his problems and nzoth doesnt help, Anduin uses shadow magic, Angst, Anxiety, Corrupted Anduin, Every chapter i suggest a song i've been listening to to get into the mood of the story, Fear, I dont know lore about shadow and old god magic so i make shit up as i go, I've found some neat shit yo, Mental Health Issues, Self Loathing, and recovering from them, im sos orry, mentions drowning alot, no ships, past azshara, shalamayne is important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:46:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onity/pseuds/Onity
Summary: N'zoth has been freed, but his queen is weak. N'zoth now seeks out a king of equal power. It seems this "Boy King" will do perfectly.





	1. Wrynn

**Author's Note:**

> Curious what you guys think. If you end up enjoying, leave a comment? Either way, thank you for clicking on me story.

-...-

N’zoth was free, but he knew he was not yet done with his work. A certain warchief was becoming a problem. His Queen weakened, yet not dead, was also now not enough. Azshara alone would not suffice. No, The Naga Queen needed an ally. Someone powerful who could strike N’zoth’s enemies hard, and someone who could bring this silly faction war to an end, with just a little of N’zoth’s help. 

Yes, it seemed N’zoth’s queen could use a king, and what better king then the king everyone loved, trusted, and would never harm? A king who’d already proved to be a strong soul, and powerful controller of light. A king that had allies he could trick into falling into N’zoth’s hand. 

It seemed this “Boy King” would do well. 

-...-

Anduin’s anxiety was worsening, a panic attack in sight. Jaina and Genn have been missing for a few days, which was bad. Genn had gone after a forsaken ship, he should have returned by now. It made Anduin sick to think Genn’s ship had fallen in battle, Genn drowned at sea, or something along those lines. And Jaina, if she were fine, would just portal here to say hi, give an update, or at the very least send an arcane letter. The idea that either of them could be dead was not one Anduin wanted to think about, but at this point he could not help himself.  
Making his way to his bedroom, unable to concentrate on paperwork anymore, Anduin removed what heavy plate armor he had on, which was just his shoulders, boots, and the chest piece right now. His blue cloth robes, the same he’s worn since his father died, were still his favorite and he refused to allow plate to dominate his wardrobe. Anduin drank down a small potion, something he’d keep just for his panic attacks, and tried his best to relax on his bed.  
Anduin turned and twisted on his sheets, his potion failing, the calmness it brought him not taking over the worry, anxiousness, the self-doubt, the weakness. Anduin tried to control himself, searching, calling for the aid of the light. The light sometimes felt like a drug that dulled his pain, his sorrow, and it never failed him. Not this time. As the light answered his call, Anduin relaxed, and allowed sleep to take him.

-...-

Anduin gasped, awakening, a coldness that ached his bones bringing pain. For a second, the young king felt as though he could not breathe. Like he was drowning, his lungs full of water. Like he was falling within the depths of a deep, dark, blue sea. Before this feeling peaked, however, it vanished. And then suddenly Anduin felt fine. Not great, not bad, just...fine.  
Anduin took this moment now to look around, realizing he was not in his room, nor his bed. There was nothing. A darkness surrounding him, the echoes of water distant. He could feel the floor beneath him, but it too was just darkness. Anduin took a few moments to breathe, the air still uncomfortably cold. Anduin thought about speaking out when nothing happened, thinking of how curious a dream he was having. He’d seen nothing like this before. Out of curiosity, he tried to call the light, but felt nothing. Odd.

“Ah, finally.” A voice, dark, deep, sent shivers down Anduin’s spine. It echoed all around him. “The boy king has awaken. I’ve been waiting.”

Anduin looked around for a source to the voice, but saw nothing. 

“Who are you?” He called out, his voice echoing too. 

“The answer you seek, child.” The voice answered, and suddenly, spooking Anduin, a fish appeared in front of him. The fish swam in place, it’s glowing eyes staring into Anduin’s own blue eyes.

“A, uh, a fish?” Anduin stepped back, the fish’s gaze seemingly piering into his soul. “ A fish knows the answers to all my problems?”

The voice chuckled, or growled, Anduin could not tell for sure. The fish began to slowly swim around him, and Anduin followed it, watching it. 

“I can see the pain in your heart, the fear that controls you. I can see your flaws, dear child.” The voice continued, Anduin frowning. 

“What do you mean?”

“You are just a shell of who you once were.” The fish disappeared, and not too far, a watery image, an echo, of a prince. “Your passion, your energy, your power. Becoming king has drained you of everything that made you strong. Now you sulk in your flaws and allow your people to die.”

Anduin shook his head. “If this is some game, I don’t intend to play it. My issues are not that simple. Being king requires personal sacrifice. Of course I am not the same as before.”

“That you are right, but I see you’ve sacrificed too much.” The echo of the prince disappeared. In its place, a man. A man hiding his tears, his body, his soul, broken. Fire burned around him. Distantly, screams. Cries for help. 

“Stop this.” Anduin shook his head. “You exaggerate.”

“Do I?” The voice did chuckle, and the echo disappeared. The fish returned, but this time, Anduin could feel it’s gaze stronger. Anduin felt uncomfortable in it’s stare.

“It seems that with some of your precious allies missing, your Alliance is disadvantaged. That warchief will strike soon. She will make your city crumble. Should you refuse to listen, king, then you will crumble too.” The voice said, the word “king” said mockingly. 

“Your tempting does nothing. I’ve heard this all before, void lord.” Anduin tried to shoo away the fish as if it were clouds, but the fish stayed put. 

The voice erupted into laughter. “Void lord?! You are mistaken, child. The shadows have tried and failed many times to twist you into their will. A priest as strong as you is not so easily seduced. It is clear the light is strong within you.”

Anduin gave the fish a confused look. “If you are not of the shadows, then who are you?” 

“I am a much higher being, and unlike them, I can give you what you wish for.” The voice continued to dance around Anduin’s question. “Should you take my offer, the warchief will learn to fear you. The world will know your name. You will be their savior. You will not just save your own people, but all Azerothians.” 

An echo appeared, this time, of a king standing proud, in his hand a flag raised above a crowd. The symbol upon the flag shared characteristics of two different flags Anduin knew well. 

“I want to help you achieve peace. No more silly wars between silly factions. High King Anduin Llane Wrynn will unite the world!” The voice almost purred, the echo producing distant cheers, and a feeling of euphoria flooded Anduin. 

Anduin stared at the echo until it vanished, the fish returning. Anduin felt the euphoria faid along with the echo, and for a second, Anduin felt empty. He craved the future the echo had shown. Whoever this voice was, this fish, promised Anduin exactly what he wanted. 

“If I take you on your offer of power, say, what price will it be I must pay?” Anduin asked. He was no idiot. 

The fish swam around Anduin again, almost playfully. “Dear child, all I ask is for your cooperation. That in itself is a given.” 

“Is it?” Anduin stepped away from the fish, and the fish watched him, curious. “I’ve heard these promises before. The Burning Legion came to me once, offered me peace. What makes you different than them?” 

“Their idea of peace was not what you wanted, was it?” The voice replied. “I don’t wish to turn you against your allies as they did. With my aid, your allies will grow stronger just as you do.”

Anduin shook his head, unconvinced this voice was any purer in motivation.

“What if I refused?” Anduin asked, raising his voice. “The light has promised me the same and unlike you or the Burning Legion, I know for a fact I can trust it.”

The voice growled, but did not allow itself to give up yet. 

“Can you? The light too has caused pain and suffering. Right now the light corrupts the draenei of Draenor, genociding the orcs, and for what end? For peace? I think not.”

Anduin wasn’t aware of this, and was unsure if the voice was telling the truth. He did know, however, that light wasn’t always good, but he would not admit that to the voice.The lightforged sometimes seemed overboard in their dedication, worrying the king. Anduin knew too that void was not always bad, the Void elves proving to be trustworthy heroes. Recently, he’d realized that the two were more opposite sides of a coin. 

“Ah, so you’ve not heard.” The voice purred. “It is what pushed the Mag'har into the Warchief’s hands. But that is not important now. You ask what happens should you refuse?”

“I did.”

Anduin watched as shadows seemed to move within the darkness. First, he thought maybe it was in his head. As the voice continued, though, the shadows seemed to dance. 

“Everything you know will fall and it will be your fault.” The voice said. “But, of course, I don’t want that to happen, do I?”

“You’ve said, yes.” Anduin began to feel uneasy. The shadows seemed to slowly surround him. 

“Then, should you refuse, I will have no choice.” The voice began to echo within Anduin’s head. “Unlike the Burning legion, child, I will not let you leave.”

Anduin saw the shadows move more actively, and feeling threatened, Anduin took a defensive pose, as if he could summon the light to his aid any second. The fish didn’t move, but Anduin could feel it laughing at him. 

“You will bow before me, pawn, or I will force you to!” The Voice boomed, angrily, and the shadows jumped violently. 

Suddenly the fish vanished, the glow of the eyes burned into Anduin’s head, and the shadows circled Anduin, an attack incoming. Anduin gulped, nervous, but called for the light. As the shadows attempted to devour him, the light responded, and a flicker of light scared the shadows off. A spark of light shined within Anduin’s palms for a moment before fading, and Anduin searched for the fish again. 

“This is where you are wrong!” Anduin’s voice boomed back. He would not allow this to scare him. “I am nobody’s pawn!”

The voice growled and the fish swam up to Anduins face, their eyes nearly touching. 

“YoU ST a N D BR aVE NOW, ChILD, BUT YOu Know nOT WHAT YOU ArE MEDDLinG WITH.” The voice shook the darkness, Anduin nearly falling. The fish then blinked out of existence and the shadows returned. 

“SURRENDER TO ME” The voice commanded, and the shadows attacked Anduin. 

Anduin struggled as the shadows wrapped around him, tightened around him, attempting to corrupt his mind. The shadow tried to hold Anduin’s heart, grasp it, contain it. Anduin breathed heavily as his lungs felt heavy, the sense of drowning returning. Anxiousness, fear, sorrow, everything returning, holding him hostage within his own mind. The light did not respond as Anduin desperately tried to fight the shadows this time. No...Anduin was stronger than this. This...being...fish...monster, whatever, would not destroy everything he has worked for. If the light wished to give up now, Anduin would live. He was stronger than that.

“ENOUGH!” Anduin screamed, with the force of a lion’s roar, and the corruption was pushed back into the darkness. 

Anduin stood tall, bravely, not with the power of the light, but with the shadow. The void. He’d not accepted the void’s aid since Pandaria, in fact he’d since then vowed to ignore it’s call. But now? Whatever wanted Anduin was a far bigger threat, and the priest king was engulfed in shadowform. Purple and green and black colors curled around his hands as he readied the shadow magic. He would fight for his freedom.

“It seems you are more powerful then I had believed.” The voice calmed, but sounded annoyed.

“Then you should leave me be, fish.” Anduin growled, his eyes darting around, looking, searching. “You will not have my heart.”

“You seem so sure.” The voice sighed.”I’ve tired of this. Your fighting means nothing to me.”

Anduin didn’t see the shadows return from the darkness, but he sent out a wave of void magic to wave off anything that may be forming. 

“You stall.” Anduin played. “If you could have forced me to bow, then why do I still stand?” 

The voice, the darkness, the shadows, growled. A warning. But the king had grown cocky. 

“You are weak.”

The voice did not like that. In fact, it raged. The ground shook, and the voice boomed, and this time, Anduin felt fear. 

“YOU BELIEVE YOURSELF MORE POWERFUL THAN A GOD!?”

Suddenly, from the darkness, hundreds of distant, yet bright, eyes opened, glowed. They pierced his soul with a force a thousand times that of the lone fish. Tentacles rose from the depths and a light glowed, burned, from behind him. Anduin turned. He saw the eye, larger than anything he’d ever seen before. The red and orange colors both struck fear and awe into Anduin’s being. He’d never seen anything so...so magnificent. 

A god. 

This was a god. 

His mistake was realized too late.

The shadows returned from the darkness, and this time, Anduin was too caught in awe to stop it. He continued to stare at the eye, the god, as he felt the corruption wrap around him. He only snapped out of his trance when he felt water pour into his lungs, a panic piercing his nerves, and the tightly bound shadows of a god imprisoning his heart. Pain, he felt pain, and as the shadows continued to restrain him, the pain grew. It grew until Anduin cried out, his groaning and gasping turning to screams. His screams echoed into the darkness. They claw at his throat, and just as it seemed like his entire body, heart, mind, and soul was torn apart, it stopped. 

Then there was nothing.

-...-

An explosion. 

From within the Embassy, Velen, High Exarch Turalyon, Alleria Windrunner, and the recently allied Katherine Proudmoore all froze. What was a short meeting before a tour of the city was cut short, and the prophet, with his allies, raced out of the embassy building, the ground shaking.

An enormous, purring, ray of darkness was emitting from the Keep. It shot up into the sky, spewing darkness, and it was nowhere near stopping. The sound of it’s power could be heard from miles away, and it’s corruption was bound to follow. 

“Hurry!” Alleria shouted to the group, calling up a void portal. “We don’t have much time!”

Despite Velen and Turalyon’s dislike of the void, Alleria was right. They had seconds at best to safely reach the Keep before the entire keep was engulfed in darkness. As they entered , Alleria stopped Katherine Proudmoore, who looked mortified. 

“Proudmoore, seek out the champion. Send them to Nazjatar now!” 

Katherine nodded her head before Alleria disappeared within the portal. They’d only recently received word from Jain and Genn Greymane that they were safe, but distracted by a force they needed to end there before returning home. It seemed their work would be interrupted. 

When Alleria appeared from the void portal, she found herself, Velen, Turaylon, and now Spymaster Shaw, standing outside the Keep entrance, along with a group of terrified guards. Shaw stared up at the darkness flooding the sky, and Alleria could feel the fear within the man, the man she was sure wasn’t used to feeling fear. 

“Where is Anduin?!” Alleria shouted, it difficult to hear because of the noise of the ray. 

Shaw gulped. “He’s inside!” 

Velen was already walking down the hall of the keep, the other three following behind. It was just as they entered that the large doors to the keep slammed shut behind them. Velen approached the throne room , the corruption spreading across the throne room’s floor like slime. About a quarter into the room, where the corruption was, Velen stopped, and called upon the light. In an instant, the room was bubbled, and the corruption could not pass the light’s shield.  
Taking in the room, the four saw guards, groaning in pain, almost melted to the floor, the darkness slowly consuming them. Sitting on the throne, as if nothing was wrong, was the king. Anduin sat calmly in darkness, his eyes glowing with red and orange and yellows and gold. He too was consumed by corruption, darkness engulfing his form. Anduin smirked at Velen. Velen glared at the boy, putting on a show of anger, but inside, his heart broke. 

“Anduin!” Turalyon barked. “What is the meaning of this!?”

Alleria watched curiously as Anduin stood from the throne. He laughed, his voice a deep echo. The king then walked to meet the group about halfway between them and the throne. She could see the shadows flowing around him like smoke. She could feel a powerful presence from Anduin. At first she thought that this was the work of the void, knowing that the void loved to tease and corrupt priests and paladins. But no, as Alleria stood there, she realized this was the work of an old god.

“Do you not like it?” Anduin finally spoke, his voice cracking the tension like ice. He laughed.

But when he did not get a reply, he frowned. It seemed Velen was not going to talk, and it made Anduin sad. 

“If you don’t, that is fine.” Anduin looked around at the guards lying motionless on the floor. The guards he killed. With a swift motion of his hand, the shadows around the guards stirred, and from the darkness, the guards rose to their feet. They stood in command, yet their eyes were soulless. 

Anduin turned back to meet Velen’s stare.

-...-

“LADY PROUDMOORE!” A shout from the distance was heard. “LORD GREYMANE!”

Jaina Proudmoore and Genn Greymane stood with Lor’themar Theron and First Arcanist Thalyssra. The group of four seemed shaken, but not from the shouting. They’d seen the death of Aszhara before N’zoth was released, taking her back, and now? Now they were stunned. What were they supposed to do now?

The Alliance champion, atop their mount, raced over to the group. As the champion got closer, the four could tell something was horribly wrong. The fear within their eyes. The shaking of their arms as they held onto their mount tightly, determined not to let a mob delay their message. 

“Champion!” Jaina called back as the Champion dismounted. “What’s wrong!?”

The champion struggled to speak, searching for the right words, despite having practiced them in their head the entire way here. 

“It, it, it’s the, the uh, it’s Stormwind!” the Champion shook their head, regaining control of themselves. “Stormwind is under attack! The keep has been breached!”

Jaina and Genn froze, before Genn let out a deep growl, the two about to turn on the two Horde members there. 

“Sylvan-”

“No!” The champion corrected. “Not the Horde! It’s a darkness, a shadow, I don’t know, but King Wrynn is in danger!”

“Could it be?” Thalyssra gasped, and the other three looked at her. 

“No, it can’t be!” Genn growled. 

“N’zoth.” Jaina frowned. But why would N’zoth seek out Stormwind right after being released? It didn’t matter, Jaina was already begining to portal her and Genn back to the city. 

“Jaina!” Lor’themar reached out to the mage before she could disappear. “We must set aside our hatred! Should you need reinforcements, we will prepare our own people. Forget the Warchief, if the Alliance falls to N’zoth, so will we!”

Jaina nodded. He was right. Slyvanas was a threat, but right now? She paled in comparison to an old god. 

With that, Jaina and Genn were gone.

-...-

Jaina had portaled them inside the keep’s halls, knowing already that if they were to save Anduin from any threat, appearing at the mage tower could be lethal. Yet, as the two joined Velen, Shaw, Turalyon, and Alleria, they saw they were too late to save anyone. 

“Anduin!” Genn barked out. 

The two watched as their king only laughed. They watched as their king stood prideful in his darkness. They saw his glowing eyes, the innocence of blue long gone. Their Anduin was gone. What remained? The echo of a god. 

“He’s too powerful. Velen’s shield will stop the corruption from spreading past the keep, but it can’t overpower him.” Turalyon spoke. “My own powers cannot be used without risk. It would require Velen to drop his shield. I’m afraid too how far gone the king could be.”

“It’s possible we can save him?” Jaina asked, desperate for a sign that her nephew was okay. She and Genn saw the boy as their family. Thinking of being unable to save him? To fail him? 

“If I can cast against him before he casts against us, there is a good chance of ending this madness.” Turalyon answered. “That said, there's a possibility anything that happens could kill him!” 

“It’s too dangerous.” Alleria shook her head. “As soon as Velen’s shield is down, he’ll overpower us all.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?!” Genn asked with a growing anger. 

Shaw frowned. “Anything. We serve the king, but what does a king matter if his kingdom is destroyed. He’s a threat now.” It hurt Shaw to say this. He too cared for the young king. They all did. 

There was a silence between them. Anduin’s darkness could easily leave Stormwind and her people dead and an echo of the past, just like Nazjatar. Stormwind was ultimately more important than her king in terms of survival. Yet, none of them wanted to be the one who killed Anduin Llane Wrynn. 

“This is all so entertaining,” Anduin suddenly spoke, taking a step forward. “But this room is growing old.”

The corrupted king walked up to the shield, standing before Velen. Still, the Prophet glared back, no sign of his true thoughts. Anduin looked up, meeting his gaze again. Holding it. Velen would suffer one way or another. Seeing his favorite student, someone he’d often acted as a grandfather for, become so...so vile. Anduin knew that this hurt Velen. 

Anduin placed his hand against the shield. “Please, understand I only mean the best for my city.”

Anduin then looked at the others, taking in their expressions, their shock, and bathing in it. 

“I can imagine nothing more beautiful than Stormwind decorated in dark colors, her streets shimmering in purples against the moonlight.” Anduin almost sang, his fingers dancing across the shield.

“The golden glow of his watch? HIs gaze gracing this land?” Anduin shuddered, tapping the shield. “She would look magnificent.” 

The group listened as Anduin sung praise of N’zoth, and his ideals for Stormwind while under N’zoth’s control. While the king saw it all as a beautiful future, the group could only imagine the horror. Stormwind was a bright and shining kingdom, filled with color and life. 

“How rude to keep Stormwind from her restoration, isn’t it?” Anduin tilted his head, and then tapping the shield with his nails, the shield began to break. 

Anduin grinned as he saw Velen look shocked. Shocked that Anduin was only playing with them. Anduin could break the shield. Anduin watched as Velen’s breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, quickened a bit. Anduin laughed. And then suddenly choked, being shoved back a few feet. 

Anduin was now held slightly off the ground, an arcane web constraining and imprisoning him. Anduin struggled a bit, but found that Jaina’s spell was being continuously empowered. She would not allow him to break this barrier. 

Anduin laughed loudly. He would not say, he liked keeping an illusion going, but yet again, he was only bound by her arcane magic because he let her. 

“How could you so easily allow N’zoth into your heart?” Jaina barked. 

“Jaina?!” Shaw shot her a glare. There was no way Anduin hadn’t given a fight. He was too good to just allow evil to corrupt him like this.

“You’ve worked so hard for your reputation. You’re loved. And yet, you just allow a god to stomp all over everything?!” Jaina continued. “I had no idea that you were weak, Anduin.”

“Jaina! What are you doing!?” Genn barked at her too. 

But Jaina’s words earned her a frown from the corrupted king. 

“I am not weak.” He said, glaring down at them. 

“A strong king does not need the aid of a desperate god.” Jaina continued. “You’ve failed your city.”

Anduin growled. 

“You’ve failed your father!” 

Anduin was seething with rage. They could see the hurt in his eyes. They then realized why Jaina was saying these things. 

“You would allow yourself to destroy everything Varian worked for!? Everything your mother died for!?” 

Anduin was shaking. “You misunderstand me, Auntie.” 

“I see right through you.” Jaina growled. 

“I only want to take what my father left me and make it better.” Anduin spoke, anger laced within his speech. “Stormwind will stand stronger. She will never have to fear an attack from Sylvanas. She will never burn. Her people will n e v e r suffer again!” 

It was scary, how much he spoke of a future that resembled that of Nazjatar. Citizens, echoes of their past, will never suffer again. The city, lost to time, will never need to fear the wrath of war any longer. Anduin spoke of Stormwind prospering, but in truth, he spoke of her becoming the next Nazjatar. What then, if she fell to the sea, to the old god’s power, would Anduin become? His people? They too, monsters, like the naga? Anduin doomed to an eternity as the Naga King? 

“Was this not exactly what I was born to do?” Anduin continued, now grinning once again. “Are kings not born and bred specifically to sacrifice anything and everything for their city? All my life I knew that one day I would have to sacrifice myself for my kingdom. Bow down and serve her, like a king should. I have given my all to keep my people happy. Why should I stop now?” 

Jaina had lost her fighting spirit. The longer the king rambled, the more sick she felt. Was this Anduin’s destiny? There was no way. Not when there were so many powerful people within the Alliance, along with the Horde, and even neutral parties, who could band together to stop him. Time after time again, mortals have banded together to end world ending threats. 

It just, it hurt, seeing Anduin become the first casualty. 

“Is that all?” Anduin smirked, seeing the women giving up the fight. “And you said I was the weak one.”

Before anyone could say anything more, Anduin broke the Arcane binding, a wave of dark magic eating away the arcane bonds. Anduin stepped back down on the floor. 

“I’ve had enough of this.” He scowled. 

Anduin began casting a spell, darkness and shadows dancing around his hands, and in preparation for whatever he was doing, Turalyon tried to strengthen the shield. 

An explosion of dark magic consumed the room, breaking the shield , the light fizzling out as the darkness consumed it. The explosion sent a sound wave that shook the building, bits of stone falling from the ceiling, the group embracing for anything larger. The shaking stopped, and the group backed away as the corruption began to swallow the rest of the room. Anduin walked forward, slowly, along with it. 

Velen did not move. 

“Oh?” Anduin smirked.”Is my teacher upset? Is it my progress? My dedication? I admit since this war I have not had time to study.” 

Velen frowned as Anduin toyed with him. 

“I gave everything to the light,” Anduin seemed upset. “THIS is where the light led me. Am I not fulfilling my destiny, Prophet?” 

Anduin stepped forward, closer to Velen, challenging him. Then, just as the corruption reached the hallway, Anduin continued. 

“The light led me into the arms of a god, then abandoned me in my hour of need.” Anduin cried out, voice laced with sorrow, desperation, need. his words were not from a corrupted soul. No, this was a cry from the real Anduin. 

A Blinding light filled the room, everyone but Velen shielding themselves from the brightness. When the initial flash passed, Jaina, Genn, Alleria, Shaw, and Turalyon looked up to see Velen casting a ray of light at the corrupted king. Velen was calling all of his power, all of his strength, all of the light, creating a powerful ray of burning, searing, scaring light. It hit Anduin, forcing the shadowy king back. Anduin cried out, hitting the throne, cracking it. The light ray continued on for a few more seconds before Velen gasped out, weak and tired from the amount of energy he used. 

The corruption was beginning to retreat, Shaw and Turaylon catching Velen before he collapsed. Anduin’s body fell from the throne he hit, onto the floor in front of it. The corruption feld back into him, and then, as the king lay on the floor, his body returned to normal, the darkness that engulfed him disappearing. The shadowy ghosts of the guards Anduin had now gone. Corpses remained. 

A dark, deep, echoing laughter filled the room. 

“Keep your boy king for now.” It said with a sense of confidence. “Know I will return, my Queen is in need of a king of equal power. Only he will do.”

And then all signs of corruption, darkness, old god magic, vanished. The keep’s doors clicked, suggesting they’d been locked the entire time. 

They all flinched when they heard violent coughing and breathing. They looked up to see Anduin, arms shaking, weakly trying to push himself up, but failing, and coughing up blood that now stained the floor. Jaina and Genn rushed over, helping pull the boy to sit on his knees. 

“Anduin!” Jaina knelt down next to him, seeing the blue returned in his eyes. 

“J-jaina?” Anduin breathed out, his voice weak, distant. His gaze, weak and distant. Jaina pulled him into a hug, tears streaming down her face. 

Velen and Turalyon stood before the King, Anduin slowly looking up to see their faces. Velen’s look, sorrowful, but also disappointed, hurt Anduin. Anduin couldn’t remember anything, but that look, Jaina’s tears, the dead on his floor. It was all his fault. 

“Forgive me, your majesty.” Shaw dipped his head to his king before cuffing him. Turalyon moved his hand slightly, the cuffs then glowing in light magic, making them stronger. 

Anduin felt tears in his own eyes now, he felt his panic attack building, his anxiousness, his self loathing. It all returned. How he was a pawn, a puppet, to a dangerous power. 

N’zoth promised to return. Until then, Anduin was no king. 

He was a prisoner. 

-...-

Anduin awoke, again, in a deep, dark, blue sea. Again, he felt like he was drowning. Falling. His lungs burned. He couldn’t breath, the sounds of his people’s cries pulling him down, the pressure of the sea building the lower he fell. So many thoughts ran through his head. He’d failed his people, his city, his father. He failed, he failed, he failed, he failed hefailedifailedIfailedifailedifailedI-

It stopped. 

Suddenly he could breathe, think, and was no longer consumed by cries or worries. 

Anduin looked around, his hair dancing in the sea, air bubbles escaping his mouth.

Then he heard crying. Distant crying. Anduin searched more, turning, twisting in the water, unable to pin where the crying came form. 

Her crying became clearer. 

Anduin turned around. He could see an elven women, shaking, crying, broken. An uncorrupted Aszhara, or an echo of her. The Queen’s crying, sobbing, then turned to screams. 

“GIVE ME MY PEOPLE BACK!” Her screams, demands, pleads, shook Anduin. 

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY CITY! WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM ME!” She screamed louder. “GIVE THEM BACK! GIVE THEM BACK TO ME!”

Her screams broke again into violent sobbing. 

Anduin then realized why he was here. Soon he would be just like her. An echo of the past, trapped within the darkness of an old god, crying, screaming, tortured, knowing your people have fallen, your city gone. 

Knowing all of this was because of you. 

-...-


	2. Greymane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think I can be saved?” Anduin changed his question.
> 
> Velen took a second, a second too long.
> 
> “I don’t know.”

-...-

The Boy King, timidly, reached out to her. As his hand touched her arm, she froze. The Queen stopped her crying, looking up at him. 

“How…?” She spoke, her voice distant. An echo. 

The King and the Queen locked eyes

“...I...I have been alone..for so long.” 

The Queen, desperate, longing for something to save her from this torment, reached back to touch the King. 

He disappeared. 

He had not yet reached her depths in this ocean. 

But he would. 

For now though, she was alone.

-...-

Genn Greymane awoke suddenly, the split second feeling of drowning sending fear into his being. Frantically, he looked around, finding himself in a crowd. He stood as a young child, a human child, alone, as people swarmed around him, screaming, crying out. A shadow loomed over them, and the child Genn looked up into the sky.   
Before the city he stood in, the ocean. A wave miles high, raging towards him. A bell chimed, and Genn realized this city was Stormwind. Waves swept in from the sides, crashing into the park, the mage district. The waves raced forward, towards him, louder and louder, drowning out all sound, all cries, until suddenly, it was stopped.   
A shield of light blocked the wave from sweeping Genn and the crowd of citizens away. Genn turned to find the source of the shield, finding, standing before the crowd, the king of Stormwind. Anduin was shaking, his arms out, calling all of his light, his energy, into this shield, that now only protected what was left of Stormwind. Though Genn stood far away from the king, Genn could feel Anduin’s heavy breathes, Anduin’s gasping, Anduin’s impending failure. Genn, too, could hear the whispers.

Genn listened as the cries of Anduins people grew louder. Save us. Help us.

Let go

“No!” Genn shuddered as the King shouted back at the whispers. 

Save us. King Wrynn. Protect us. Save us. 

“I am King!” Anduin gasped for air, for strength, as his body began to crumble. ”This is the kingdom I Serve!”

The shield cracked, the light threatening to give out.

It is over.

Anduin groaned, his arms shaking more, bones cracking, the shield growing heavy on his back, the cries of his people tearing at his heart.

My King. Please. Save us.

Save us.

Save

us

The King cried out, the shield breaking, and the waves devouring them all. 

Darkness.

Genn felt the water flood into his lungs and now he was drowning once again. He tried to cry out, tried to swim for air, but there was nothing. 

Bodies appeared from the darkness, drowning alongside him, falling deeper and deeper into the depths of the sea. Genn could hear their cries of rage. 

You betrayed us.

This is your fault.

You destroyed everything.

We loved you.

“No.” 

Genn could hear Anduin, but could not see him.

“My people.” Anduin’s voice spoke with surprise and sorrow. 

You’ve betrayed us. 

You’ve killed us all.

How could you.

This is all.

Your .

Fault.

“No!” Anduin yelled out again, and all was dark, again. 

Genn could feel himself floating there, within an empty sea, nothing but pain controlling his being. The sea’s echoes sounded distant, but for that moment, it was all he heard. 

And then he heard laughter. Echoing laughter. 

Genn turned around, facing it’s source. 

The Naga King. 

-...-

Gasping, Genn awoke in his bed, the darkness now falling away to moonlight from the windows. Genn sat up, his breathing quick, until he realized he was truly awake. Calming down, Genn looked over to see Mia still peacefully asleep. The fear that had controlled him now fading, and a silent calmness took over. He sat there clearing his head.   
He sighed, stepping off the bed, careful to not wake his wife. Sliding on his coat and boots, he made his way out of the room, disturbing the wooden flooring. He opened the door, looked back at the calmness of the room, the beauty of the blue light, and then left.   
He’d made his way out of Stormwind in the middle of the night, walking the calm streets to the mage tower. He took a portal to the Exodar. There is where he sought out it’s newest prisoner. Unsafe within the city he had threatened, the young king had been taken to the Exodar, under Prophet Velen’s command and watch. Deep within the walls of the Exodar, locked down by light runes and arcane bars, guarded by the strongest of lightforged soldiers, was a lonely, dark, cold room. Inside sat two. Prophet Velen, and under lock, chain, and prison of light, Anduin Wrynn. 

Anduin looked up from the floor, his chains shifting, his hair, loose, moving from in front of his eyes. 

“Genn.” He spoke, seemingly glad to see the Worgen leader. 

Genn gave Velen a look, a nod to greet him, before walking over to the light prison. There, Genn sat down on the floor, facing the king. Anduin met his gaze and weakly smiled. 

“You’re up late.” 

Genn sighed. “My sleep could be better.”

Anduin looked down. “I’m sorry.”

It was weird having hear someone reply “im sorry” and actually mean that they feel guilt. It was usually a custom, something people replied with to anyone’s troubles, no matter if they played a part. Anduin knew, though, that this was his fault. 

“None of this is your fault.” Genn frowned. He knew well that Anduin allowed his fears to control him. He placed himself on top of all, blaming himself for everything that went wrong. 

“Please.” Anduin shook his head. “How have you and Jaina been? I’ve not heard from you both since you disappeared.” 

“We are fine.” Genn paused. “We’ve established foothold in new territory, and though I was originally after the Banshee’s pet, it seems he no longer is our problem.”

“Hm?” Anduin could feel Genn unsure about something. He was dancing around something. 

Genn would have originally had no pause when telling his king about Nazjatar, Azshara, and the unfortunate outcome of their stay. But now, if Anduin had not already known whom controlled him and how it got to this, Genn didn’t wish to worry the boy any more. Genn felt Velen’s presence, curious, but Velen did not seem to way in on Genn’s unsurity. 

“In our, em, struggles against the local foe, we’ve found ourselves unlikely allies. It seems we’re at a crossroads yet again.” Genn said his words cautiously. “Lor'themar and Thalyssra aided us in our battle, as we aided them.”

Anduin smiled. “How are they?”

“Not...bad?” Genn wasn’t sure what reply Anduin expected from him. “For now, they offer aid against our new foes, but I still act with caution.” 

“You know,” Anduin leaned his head back against the wall. “I’ve always kinda liked Lor’themar. One day, I’ve dreamed for awhile, I could take a tour of Silvermoon. I’ve heard she’s stunning. I know he is very proud of her.” 

“Who wouldn’t be proud of their own city?” Genn questioned. Anduin didn’t reply. Anduin thought about his own city, and how a better question would be what city wouldn’t be proud of their own leader? Stormwind, likely. 

Stop that. 

Anduin looked up at Velen. Velen wasn’t talking much, Anduin understood, but sometimes Anduin swore he could hear the elder whisper within his head. Velen watched Anduin to guard him, but he too gave comfort to the boy. Anduin’s self doubt blinded him and Velen knew now that this needed to change or else it will consume him. 

“Who has been left in charge?” Anduin turned to Genn. 

“A few different people.” Genn answered. “I am not sure, I know Shaw was to speak to the council as soon as you left.” 

“Do they know what happened?” Anduin continued. 

Genn shook his head. “I don’t know. I know that all of Stormwind could see the corruption that came from the keep, but I do not know if they know why. I imagine someone will try calming the citizens as soon as possible.”

Anduin nodded his head, thinking now of his people. Genn watched the boy retreat into his own mind again. 

“Anduin.” Genn said softer, not as a fellow leader, but more as a stand-in father figure. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…” Anduin thought about how much he wanted to say. What he should say. “I feel drained.” 

As he knew Velen and Genn were listening, he continued. 

“Right now? I feel myself. I don’t feel, feel corrupted. I feel sorrow and anxiety, everything I know is me. But I don’t feel him within me.”

Genn listened intently. The boy has cried on his shoulder before, over the death of his father, but Anduin has never ever opened up about his mental health issues. Anduin has always hid them. Anduin felt that he had to. If the high king is not strong, then what of his empire? What would happen if his people knew of his weakness? 

Anduin believed they would do things that Genn knew for a fact they would not. Maybe Anduin didn’t totally realize the true extent to which the entire alliance loved him. That even the Horde loved him, or at least respected him. Those who knew of his sacrifice in Pandaria knew well that Anduin meant it when he fought for peace for all. By now they all knew that Anduin would throw himself into the jaws of death if it saved lives, and that was no weakness. 

“Sometimes, I think I can hear echoes. But they aren't his voice. I don’t think so. I can hear crying, but that’s not him either.” Anduin confessed. “I’ve seen her. I can feel her pain too.”

“Her?” Genn asked, he and Velen caught off guard by Anduin’s words. 

“His prisoner.” Anduin muttered. “Before me.”

Prisoner? N’zoth’s queen? Azshara?

Genn glanced back to Velen, but could not tell what the elder was thinking. Did this mean that Anduin was in contact with Azshara too? Corrupted by her as well? Genn thought back to his dream, thinking long about the events, the sea, the people, the naga king. His dream, though about Stormwind falling, echoed the stories Genn heard about the fall of Nazjatar and Azshara. 

“She’s alone.” Anduin continued. “She screams at him, she wants her people back.”

Anduin left his confession to that. 

“Genn.” Anduin changed his tone. “Please tell them I’m okay. I don’t wish anyone else to worry about me.”

Genn shook his head. The poor child was haunted by a god and still cared more about everyone else and their peace of mind.

“As you wish.”

Genn wasn’t sure how much longer he stayed, but when he did finally leave, an ache grew in his heart. The boy did nothing to deserve this. N’zoth was a god, yes, but Genn hoped, prayed, that somehow, someway, he would pay for what he has done.   
The room grew cold and quiet again, Anduin staring back at the floor, consumed once again by the thoughts in his head. There wasn’t much else to do while locked away but think. He shifted a bit, growing uncomfortable, but not that it really bothered him. He was a prisoner now after all. 

“Velen?” Anduin eventually looked back up at his jailer. 

“Yes, my boy?” Velen replied. 

Anduin felt tears in his eyes, but blinked them away.

“This is it, isn't it?” Anduin continued. “If I am really corrupted by an old god, how much longer do I have to be me before I’m...i’m...gone?”

Velen did not answer. 

“Do you think I can be saved?” Anduin changed his question.

Velen took a second, a second too long.

“I don’t know.” Velen could not think of anything else to say, and though it scared him, Anduin deserved some truth. 

Before Anduin could respond, panicked over the answer, Velen channeled light into him. Within seconds he was back asleep, no longer thinking such negativity. 

-...-

Nobody dared to tell the families of the guards who’d fallen in the throne room that they had died to their king’s own hand. If anyone found out that Anduin had killed them there would be an uproar, and there was already the chaos of explaining the giant ray of darkness that had flooded into the sky at the same time.  
As the city unknowingly prepared for an even greater threat then the Horde, an uneasiness stirred within the Alliance leadership. Their king had fallen, but of course his corruption did not mean the Alliance would fall. It did however mean that the preaching of hope that kept the Alliance on her moral high ground was no longer there to hold her together. 

“No.” Tyrande scowled. “No! I refused to believe this madness!”

Jaina and Genn glanced at each other. 

“So Azshara has returned?” Geblin Mekkatorgue frowned. 

“More than Azshara.” Jaina continued. “Her army. Her corrupter. N’zoth.” 

Tyrande was conflicted. “I know well the true danger of that woman. I fear that with her and her commander at our throats, this would give Sylvanas a chance to finish us.”

“It would be stupid for Sylvanas to dystroy us when an old god has now been unleased.”

“We must remember that witch isn’t sane. She doesn’t do things for the greater good.” Genn growled. 

“While I don’t know the Warchief’s plans, I do know that Lor'themar has extended his aid. He saw her fall just as I had.” Jaina added. “I know also that Saurfang is building a rebellion against the Warchief, and that he has the aid of Thrall and Baine. I imagine they too will help us.” 

Tyrande was still seething rage by what the Horde did to her home, but at this moment, her anger cooled. She still wanted all of the Horde to pay for what they did, and she was sure they will, but the Horde had to survive Azshara and the old gods if they were to be put to justice. Though, if the Horde fell to Azshara, Tyrande was sure she wouldn’t be sad either. She too was still angry at the high king for his inability to aid Darkshore, though Genn had talked to her about the reasons why he couldn’t. 

“By the way, I’ve noticed we’ve started our meeting without our high king.” Tyrande mentioned. 

“I’ve noticed it too.” Moira nodded her head. “I don’t believe he’s ever been late. We are in his city.”

Jaina and Genn, along with Alleria and Turalyon, where still the only leaders at this meeting who knew of Anduin’s imprisonment. The others knew that something had happened, but were not there to see it. This reason was why Jaina had requested a meeting with the Alliance leaders. Sitting within thick stone walls, the only leaders whom were missing at the wooden table were Velen and Anduin. 

“You see,” Jaina gulped, “ I called this meeting for a reason. Anduin cannot be here. In fact, he can’t even be in the city anymore.”

The mage received looks of confusion, and some, worry. 

“What do ya mean he can’t be in Stormwind?” Moira asked first. 

Jaina breathed out before she explained. 

“Yesterday evening Genn and I were pulled away from Nazjatar to find the Stormwind keep under attack, not by the Horde, but by N’zoth. We, along with the Prophet, Master Shaw, Lady Alleria, and High Exarch Turalyon entered the keep to find the throne room engulfed in N’zoth’s corruption.”

Jaina paused. 

“Our king, too, was corrupted, and seemed to be it’s source.”

Genn continued for Jaina after Jaina looked at him.

“While under N’zoth’s control, he spoke about corrupting Stormwind, and in the process he’d killed the guards that were already in the throne room. Velen was able to cast away the corruption for now, but N’zoth told us that he would be back for Anduin.” He explained. 

“For now, the high king is being looked after by the prophet, imprisoned under Exodar.” Alleria added. 

The other leaders were quiet. 

“I can’t even begin to imagine him...corrupted.” Aysa Cloudsinger seemed disturbed. She remembered the young prince from Pandaria, the young King facing the legion. None of her memories of him made it easy to picture him as...as an enemy. 

“Let alone killing his own guards.” Muradin Bronzebeard added. 

“I visited him last night.” Genn mentioned after a short silence.

Turalyon leaned back in his seat. “How is he?”

“He appears normal. It felt so strange to see him locked up so...so tightly.” Genn frowned. “He is deeply saddened by the pain he’s caused already, I can see.”

“Poor child.” Malfurion mumbled. 

“I…” Jaina thought aloud. “I’m glad Varian isn’t here to see this. I can’t imagine how torn he would be.”

There was a silent agreement within the room. Then a rushed knock on the door before the door opened slightly. 

“Forgive me for intruding,” A worgen keep guard bowed to the leaders. “But I must speak to Lord Greymane urgently.”

Genn stood up from his seat, beginning to walk towards the door.

“I will return shortly. Continue without me.” Genn told the leaders before disappearing through the doors. 

-...-

Anduin groaned and mumbled in his sleep. He twisted around, as much as he could, rattling the chains. Velen felt something off within him, but when he tried to use the light to enter the child’s mind, Velen didn’t see anything. 

“N-….no….” The King muttered through his sleep. 

Velen tried to whisper into the king’s dream, tried to calm him. He was blocked by a darkness.

“P-please…….nn….he-her…..”

The king in his twisting pulled down upon the chains, hurting his own wrists.

“Sha….la….” 

-mayne.

-...-

“I’ll explain on the way.” The worgen guard bowed to her king as he exited the meeting room. 

“Let's go then.”

She began to lead Greymane down the halls, her pace quick, the destination not too far. As they passed a few other people, Genn could sense a silent panic. Was it their rushing? 

“One of the maids was dusting the king’s office.” The guard spoke, keeping her eyes in front of her. Genn could see a fear within her gaze. 

“Go on.”

“All I heard was a scream before I was able to enter, but when I did, I found her dead.” 

“Dead?” Genn growled. 

“It’s….It’s the sword, my lord.”

Before Genn could ask anything or press on, they reached the king’s office. There were already a few other guards outside of it, nervous, glad to see Greymane appear finally. They moved aside to allow the worgen to enter the room. Within the small office, a body on the floor, papers all over the place, and corruption spewing from the sword mounted upon the wall above the desk, below a portrait of the old king. 

Shalamayne was glowing in purple darkness, her usually yellow light now mirroring that of N’zoth’s eyes. 

“How…?” Genn froze, before shaking his head and turning to the guard. “Get Lady Proudmoore now!”

“Yes sir!”

Genn looked back at the sword, the darkness emanating from her blade, crawling up the wall, seeping into the paint of the portrait of Varian Wrynn. Genn couldn’t pull his eyes away from the portrait, the sword, and her corruption. He could feel the drowning again, but more as a distant reawoken memory. He could hear the cries of the people, distantly, muffled by the sea. The sound of the waves crushing Stormwind and her architecture.   
Shalamayne’s glowing eye peered into his soul, watching him, calling for him, reflecting in the lights in his eyes. Genn couldn’t move, couldn’t think, as the corruption approached him. She offered him calmness in this drowning. She offered him everything he could ever want, and more. Sylvanas answering for her crimes, Gilneas revived, a booming city, full of life again. She promised him his son back. Gen’s legs shook. He knew this was wrong, she was lying, but….but…

“GENN!” 

Suddenly Genn was shoved back, and Jaina appeared, casting a spell at the corruption. The corruption hissed, being pulled back into Shalamayne, and the sword rocked on it’s mantle. Arcane energy crackled and popped as it wrapped around the sword, containing it and it’s corruption. As the sword returned to it’s normal appearance, no longer seemingly possessed, the arcane binding it relaxed. 

“Why didn’t you move!?” Jaina turned to Genn. “The corruption was at your feet!”

Genn struggled to find words, unsure of what just happen. 

“I...it...the sword talked to me.” Genn shook his head. 

“The sword? Or N’zoth?” Jaina questioned, looking down at the corpse on the floor, soulless, taken by the sword of Wrynn. 

“So now the king’s weapon has been corrupted too?” The two turned to see Alleria. 

“So it seems.” Genn answered as the woman walked into the room. 

“But how, I wonder.” Alleria thought aloud. “Anduin is nowhere near Stormwind, let alone his own office. It’s unlikely he was using her.”

“Is it?” Jaina disagree. “I’ve heard Varian talk about this. How Shalamayne has always felt special. He’s spoken about how he felt a connection to her. Like he knew exactly where she was no matter what.”

“Ahh, I see.” Alleria looked up at the sword, at the portrait. 

“So this was an attack by Anduin?” Genn asked. “While even imprisoned he can attack Stormwind?!”

Jaina shook her head. 

“Varian’s also spoken about how sometimes he thinks Shalamayne has a mind of her own. He couldn’t explain the feeling well, but he swore to it.” Jaina added. 

“It seems Shalamayne was then corrupted along with her wielder.” Alleria looked to Jaina. 

“Is this why the boy refuses to use a more properly suited weapon in battle?” Genn asked. 

While Anduin was expected to wield Shalamayne as a symbol, after the first battle against the Horde he had been given an opportunity to forge a more fitting weapon to his skills. While his scepter wasn’t very threatening, he’d been offered to take that as well. But no. Despite how heavy and uncomfortable it was to swing her in battle, Anduin refused to let go of her. 

“Maybe…” Jaina replied.

“We must remove Shalamayne from Stormwind now before she begins spewing corruption again.” Alleria said, approaching the sword. 

“But where to?” Genn asked. 

Jaina thought about where to hide away the sword. Somewhere far, far away from Anduin. Somewhere fit enough to contain an old god corrupted sword. Somewhere were people powerful enough could guard her. The Kirin Tor would be powerful enough to contain her, but Dalaran was home to civilians and travelers and would be a prime target for corruption. Certainly she could employ a few Kirin Tor to guard the sword elsewhere. Maybe alongside a lightforged priest? 

“Genn?” Alleria turned to the man suddenly. 

“Yes?” 

“You wont like this, I know, but I must ask.” Alleria frowned. “Gilneas has been long abandoned, hasn’t she?”

Genn didn’t like to think about it, but yes. He’d not yet been able to gain the resources to reclaim his city and rebuild. There have also been many distractions.

“Y-yes.”

“Then we should hide Shalamayne there.”

“What!?” Genn growled. 

“Hear me out, please.” Alleria pushed on. “Gilneas and the surrounding area is void of anyone. There is nothing there, no one for corruption to take. Also, Gilneas wouldn’t be anyone’s first guess as to where Shalamayne would be if they wished to steal her.”

Genn looked down. “There are...a few places I can think that can be considered for hiding the sword.”

“Then it is settled.” Alleria turned to Jaina. “Would you be able to seal the sword away in Gilneas?”

“I can, but I believe the Kirin Tor may have more knowledge in imprisoning a weapon.”

“Then we shall seek their help.”

-...-

High above Thunder Bluff, a bird flew gracefully through the collecting clouds. In her talons was a letter, stamped with the seal of Kul Tiras. The bird headed downward, landing within the tent of the High Chieftain. The Chieftain, Baine Bloodhoof, sat along with a few guests. Turning towards the bird, Baine took the letter, allowing the bird to fly off. 

“Looks human.” Saurfang noted, sitting along with Thrall, Lor’themar, and the horde champion. 

“From Kul Tiras.” Baine noted aloud, opening the letter and reading it. 

They’d been having a small meeting, discussing how to continue now that N’zoth was free. Lor’themar, originally having nothing to do with Saurfang’s forming rebellion, now supported it secretly. He’d been the one to tell them, warn them, of Azshara and N’zoth. He and Thalyssera were still busy preparing their cities, their people, but Lor’themar was lucky to find a moment to speak with the other Horde leaders. 

The group watched Baine’s face as he read the letter, though trying to appear as if they weren’t. The last week has been difficult, though the Tauren leader offered Saurfang and Thrall a place to stay in his city as long as his city stood. Using Thunderbluff for a temporary base of operation, they were kinda surprised Sylvanas hadn’t even touched the city yet. Or try to get Baine back. 

“What’s Proudmoore need?” Saurfang grumbled, watching as Baine looked worried, finished with the letter, now deep within thought. 

Baine turned to the Horde champion, a demon hunter, standing idly by the entrance of the tent. 

“We are alone, correct?” Baine asked. 

The demon hunter used their spectral sight, which could aid in seeking out those in stealth. The champion nodded their head, signaling Baine to continue. 

“It would seem that N’zoth has an interest in our faction war.” Baine spoke, placing the letter into the flames of the light between them. This letter should be read by no one else, especially the Warchief. “Specifically, the Alliance.”

“How so?” Lor’themar asked, frowning. He knew Azshara had an interest in them, but N’zoth?

“King Anduin has been corrupted.” Baine said. “He’s trying to destroy his own city.”

“What..” Saurfang and the rest of the group were caught off guard. 

“This is troubling...” Thrall spoke. “Stormwind still stands, correct?”

Baine nodded. “They’ve imprisoned him somewhere else. She didn’t say where. But yes, the city is fine.”

“What would an old god want with their king?” Lor’themar questioned. “With his city?”

“Could this be a distraction?” Saurfang asked. 

“Or,” The Horde champion butt in. “Is it that N’zoth hopes to use the king against someone?”

“But who?” Baine wondered. “N’zoth required Azshara to set him free, and now that he is, why would he need the aid of another mortal?”

“It may not relate, but I have noticed that Nathanos was...acting upon his own plan, since we got to Nazjatar.” The Horde champion stated. 

“I wondered about that as well.” Lor’themar agreed. “It seemed he even lead us there. Like he knew Aszhara would open her city to us.”

“It’s likely that if he knew then Sylvanas knows.”

Saurfang growled. “She knows something we don’t.”

“Could she be corrupted too? Working with Azshara?” Lor’themar asked. 

“I thought the undead could not be corrupted by the void nor the old gods.” Thrall said. 

Baine watched as the last of the letter turned to ash. 

“If there is anyone that N’zoth would be afraid of, then, it would be her.” Baine said. 

The group sat silent for a bit, taking in the information. This was all speculation, of course, but N’zoth was a real problem. Sylvanas was a real problem. This needed to be dealt with. Saurfang had hoped that by building a rebellion, he could aid Anduin in taking out the Warchief. He still believed that Anduin could do it. But now it seemed N’zoth was possibly aiming towards a similar goal. 

“Forgive me,” Baine spoke, standing up. “I must stretch my legs. I will return.”

Baine walked out of the tent in deep thought. Anduin had made the order to send Jaina and Shaw to rescue him. Baine still and forever would hold Anduin to a high regard. They’d been friends, and now knowing that Anduin was fallen to N’zoth bothered Baine. Forget why, what Baine truly wanted to know is how this would affect the outcome of the war. The outcome of Azeroth’s impending doom. Could Anduin be saved?

Baine sighed, standing at the edge of the city, looking out across Mulgore. 

Whatever was happening, whatever will happen, Baine knew they were nowhere near prepared for it. 

-...-

Velen awoke, unsure of when he fell asleep in his chair, but hoping he hadn’t been out too long. Yes, he was exhausted, mind sick with worry for this future, and his body could only handle so much. Velen shifted in his chair, his old bones aching. 

He looked up, expecting to see the king asleep still. 

The light prison remained intact. The runes still locked tightly. The chains undisturbed. 

The boy king gone.

-...-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i've decided to continue this. I love the idea and i'm glad you all support it too. Let me know what you think. This story will be a tiny bit freeform, i'm sorta planning it as I go? I have an idea for it's future, it's just how we get there. If you haven't watched Warbringers: Azshara in awhile, i suggest re watching it for this chapter. 
> 
> Also, the title is based off MISSIO's song "Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea".


	3. Windrunner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can be saved, completely, and I believe you can help me.” 
> 
> “Why save you when we should be saving Anduin?”

-...-

When Anduin awoke from his light enforced nap, he’d briefly thought that all of this had possibly been a bad dream. It was when Anduin remembered where he was, inside a rune locked light cell being watched by Velen while located under the Exodar, that Anduin fell back to Earth. And then the poor young monarch fell from Earth to Hell when he began to see bits of shadows appearing around him.

“U-uuhhhhhm, uhm, V-Velen?” Anduin tried to scoot away from the shadows, but he’s pretty much trapped where he is. His call out to Velen had not earned a reply, so Anduin took the chance to look away from the shadows to see why. 

“VELEN!” Anduin shouted, louder, seeing now that the prophet was apparently asleep. I mean, it’s good for the elder to get his rest, he’s needed it, but right now? Right fucking now?

Anduin tried to communicate via the light, maybe send a message, something, to Velen, but found he was blocked from the Elder’s mind. Velen may have done this before once or twice when angry with other people, but never to Anduin. When Anduin attempted to get Velen’s attention again, he found he sensed a similar presence to the shadows. Maybe, just as the light had forced him to sleep, the shadows had forced Velen to sleep.

“Oh dear light.” Anduin watched as the shadows danced around him, groaning. “What is going on?” 

A hum, deep and echoing, came from the shadows. 

“NO!” Anduin shouted. “Leave me alone!”

But the hum grew louder. 

Anduin tried to call upon the light to aid him as the shadows threatened him again. The light cell and runes around him, though locking him away, radiated a calming energy that he tried to take advantage of. It still confused Anduin why the light had stopped responding to him halfway though his contact with the god, or the dream, he wasn’t sure. The light has always been here for him, why wasn’t it here for him now?

Was this truly his destiny? To go through this shit? 

What a cruel trick to play on a devoted follow, really.

The Light at least respond this time, but with his restricted movement, chanting spells was all he could do. Healing spells meant nothing, and most attack spells required more effort then speech. Anduin used what he could to try to shoo away the shadows that were building around him, filling the cell, blocking Anduin’s sight of the rest of the room. 

“Ugh, come on!” Anduin turned to his restraints, pulling, tugging on the chains, attempting to break the light with light. Not really working too well. 

The voice appeared within his head. “Listen…”

Anduin felt panic build up as the shadows wrapped around him, just as they had in his first meeting with the god. With the light failing again, Anduin felt power build within his chest. Glaring into the shadows, as if looking for that damned fish, Anduin let out a physic scream.   
The shadows were pushed back against the cell barrier, but were not afraid of him, and returned faster, grabbing hold of him, sinking into him. 

“Retrieve her…” The voice spoke again, coming from inside his head. “...find Shalamayne. Then appear before me at The Eternal Palace.”

Anduin couldn’t respond as the corruption took hold, and everything felt different. Anduin felt almost as if he was trapped within his own head, watching himself fall, watching himself say things, do things, he’d never dream of. And then, just as the voice began speaking again, Anduin could no longer feel a connection to his body, nor the situation around him. No, now, he was drowning again, in darkness, again, and this time it hurt more. 

“It seems you are trapped, my child.” The voice echoed. 

The corrupted Anduin purred, “Rescue me then?”

“As you wish.”

The shadows vanished, as if teleporting, and took Anduin with them.

Velen awoke, unsure of when he fell asleep in his chair, but hoping he hadn’t been out too long. Yes, he was exhausted, mind sick with worry for this future, and his body could only handle so much. Velen shifted in his chair, his old bones aching. 

He looked up, expecting to see the king asleep still. 

The light prison remained intact. The runes still locked tightly. The chains undisturbed. 

The boy king gone.

-...-

Walking into the gates of Gilneas was a much harder experience then any of them planned for. Genn knew the pain walking through his fallen city would bring him, but even Khadgar was surprised just how much he felt pain too. The city was no different than the day after Genn fled, no different from where the forsaken had left it. Buildings stood strong but dusty, and much of the blight that had been used here has blown away.  
Walking through the streets, they all could see everything the Gilnean people left behind. All of their stores remained stocked, though how good their products were remained in question. Wagons sat till, unused, in the place they were abandoned. Every now and then one of them thought they may have seen a stray animal, but there was very little life other than that. 

Jaina saw childrens’ toys left outside, laying as though they were in the middle of being played with. Everything she saw here reminded her of Theramore, and as each second dragged on, she wished more and more to hide the sword and leave. 

“Through here.”

Genn pulled the group from walking down the dirt and stone street into a darker, damp alleyway. Following the worgen king, Khadgar, four Kirin Tor Mages, Jaina Proudmoore, holding Shalamayne in an arcane binding, Alleria Windrunner, and four of her void elf rangers. All five of the rangers had their weapons readied, untrusting that the area had been completely abandoned. Genn led them through what felt like a maze of narrow streets, ending up at a back door to an old family house. The windows, broken in, had shown someone had been here before. 

“Inside,” Genn reached through the window glass, cutting himself accidentally while unlocked the door from the inside. “Is where we’ll hide it.”

The group walked inside, following Genn, and looked around the home. A small home, home to a father, mother, and a daughter. Pictures were hung from the walls, but dust made it difficult to clearly see them. 

“How’d you find out about this place?” Khadgar asked, seeing evidence of a difficult family life. Most of the stuff here belonged to the daughter and mother. It seemed the father was away a lot. 

“This house used to belong to the Crowley family.” Genn answered. “Well, kind of.”

Genn was unprompted for more information, but he gave anyway. 

“Lord Darius Crowley used to be an enemy to the Gilnean crown. Disagreed with our choices. After he led a rebellion against my city, we imprisoned him. This home used to be a secret place for him, it being so difficult to reach from normal streets. After his capture, his wife and daughter lived here in fear. We found this place, took anything we thought was evidence against Crowley’s actions, and we found a large underground structure. Was filled with usual food and supplies, beds, other rooms. I can’t remember the details, but this place was useful in hiding citizens during the first invasion of feral worgen.”

“So this is the trustworthy place to hide the sword?” Khadgar asked. He’d been expecting a dark dungeon under a castle or the Greymane mansion, but realized now that was a bit predictable. This place was much less known and more well hidden. 

“Safest place in the city, I assure you.” Genn replied. 

The underground rooms were dark and cold and an uncomfortable place, though there were plenty of torches that Khadgar could light on their way through the area. At the lowest level, at the end of underground rooms, was a small, square room, with a desk, chair, bookcases, and old remnants of paperwork, letters, and whatever was left behind when raided by the crown’s guards. It was a bit cramped with all of them inside, but the plan was to leave the four Kirin Tor mages with two of the void elf rangers guarding the doorway. 

“Here.” Genn cleared off anything that was left on the desk in the room, before backing away to allow the mages to do as they had to.

Creating an arcane cage wasn’t all that hard, but maintaining it and protecting it was the problem. Jaina placed the arcane bound sword within the arcane cage, then stepping back to allow one mage to start creating a system of locks to further protect the cage. The purple, blue, and pink colors from the magic danced around the room like the light of a lit candle. 

“Okay.” One of the mages stepped back. “There are enough protections on this that in order to take the sword back out, even the most capable mage would need at least an hour. Anyone without the knowledge of the arcane could take it apart, but it would take them much longer.”

“Oh long?” Genn asked. It was interesting that these locks that took less than a minute to place could take anyone hours to take off.

“Hmm, someone like you, probably seven hours? Eight? If you’re lucky.” The mage replied. 

“If the boy were to find this cage, how long would it take him?” Genn asked. 

“Maybe five hours?” The mage thought. 

Jaina shook her head. “He does know arcane magic, I’ve taught him a few things when he was younger. If he still remembers, I would get it’d take him about two to three hours.”

“Oh. Well, thankfully, you’ve got the most powerful and mentally strong of the Kirin Tor to guard it, so I would say he’ll never get into it.” The mage smirked. 

“Knock on wood.” Genn frowned. 

“Anyway,” Khadgar spoke up, “Arcane energy would be easy to detect when searching for it here when the only thing giving off energy is what we want to hide. Before we leave I will cast something to hide it’s sent.”

“It’s sent?” Genn questioned. Arcane confused him. 

“Any form of magic can be tracked just like a hunter tracks a wounded beast.” The mage answered. “Light, arcane, shadow. If you plan to escape the hunter, hiding in a place flooding with your magic type would hide you well.”

“So Dalaran is fairly safe for arcane users.” Khadgar added. 

“And...a cathedral a safe place for users of the light?” Genn asked. 

“Hmm, possibly, but a cathedral is a single building and it’s easy to trap yourself if you plan on hiding there. A light user may be more drawn to the Exodar, Shattrath, Lights Hope Chapel, or even Quel’Danas.” 

“Shadow users could hide in Telogrus Rift, if they could even get there.” Alleria added. “But the easiest place to go is to the void itself.”

“Or the basement of the Stormwind Cathedral.” She added with a shrug, meaning it as a joke.

“Don’t think there are many places someone trying to hide the magic of an old god could hide. I know it’s similar to shadow magic in appearance but it’s still different.” Jaina continued the conversation. 

“But, that said, how many people know how to track the energy of an old god? That beast would be a prize to hunt down.” Alleria added. 

“Luckily, the only one I know who uses it has already been caught.” Genn felt weird talking about Anduin as if he was a beast, but that's how the sentence came out.

“I imagine N’zoth won’t let him stay there forever.” Jaina frowned. “And in the meantime we’ll need to find out a way to uncorrupt him. We can’t just lock him away forever. We could, but I’d never be able to live with myself if so.”

“We would never do that to him.” Genn shook his head. 

“And allow him to destroy Stormwind?” Alleria wondered. “If we can’t uncorrupt him the-”

“We will! We will find a way.” Jaina stopped Alleria. 

Alleria paused, a bit taken back, but understood. Long ago Jaina had promised herself to protect Anduin, the boy who was the closest thing to a son, and she would never let him go. Alleria worried that the woman would rather kill herself in the process of finding a ‘cure’ to this corruption then admit Anduin may be long gone. Genn, too, had since committed to protecting Anduin, though Alleria was unsure if it was Genn feeling he owed Varian a debt, Genn not totally trusting Anduin as crown king of the Alliance, or Genn feeling the loss of Liam and Anduin awakening Genn’s fatherly instincts. 

No it was totally all three of those. Definitely. And Alleria was sure that by now Genn had also grown to love Anduin as a person, beside those last three points. 

“If we’re finished here,” Khadgar began, pulling Alleria from thought, “I should go cast that spell to hide our efforts.”

“Yes, of course.” Jaina nodded, then turned to Genn. “I will be porting to Stormwind. Genn?”

Genn shook his head. “I will find my own way home. I wish to stay for now.”

Jaina nodded her head, understanding, and portaled herself away. 

“I will follow you out of here, Greymane. I believe a good place to start casting would be outside. “ Kadgar said as Genn began to leave, the two walking out of the room talking.

Alleria turned to the mage guards, whom have taken position, and then turned to her own rangers. 

“Annaliath, Zaradra, If you would stay here.” Alleria pointed two of the rangers out, and they nodded before taking position out beside the entrance to the room. 

Alleria turned to walk out of the building, not void portalling out, which confused the two other rangers left to follow. As Alleria walked out of the house, into the cold air, she frowned. Something felt...wrong. But she couldn’t tell what it was. It didn’t feel like being stalked. 

“I want to stay in the area a little longer.” Alleria told her two rangers. “Stay close.”

Up, in the clouded sky, the darkness of coming rain, and a lone bat. 

-...-

“Alleria….” A soft, sweet voice whispered. 

It sounded so...familiar?

“Dear Alleria…” The voice continued to call out. 

Alleria Windrunner, bow drawn, stood alone on a dirt path, the city of Gilneas not too far in the distance, the rest of the destroyed area in view. When the Whisper started, Alleria froze

“Who’s there!?” She shouted, aiming her bow outward. 

“Listen to me…” The voice called, and Alleria felt as if something was staring down her back. 

“Who are you!?” Alleria turned around quickly, stepping back in awe when everything became darkness, and her two rangers were gone. 

A light appeared in the distance, flickering like fire, but too far away for Alleria to tell what it was from. Without an answer, Alleria began to walk towards the light, each step feeling as if she were walking across the bottom of a deep blue sea. She continued her defensive stance, cautious as to not let her guard down. She had no idea what this was. A dream? A trap? Was it was felt off to her?

“I mean you no harm, Alleria.” The voice whispered, and as Alleria walked closer to the light, the voice became clearer. Though the voice belonged to nobody Alleria could see, something felt motherly about it. 

Alleria finally stopped and lowered her bow upon finally realizing what the light was. Flickering from both light and shadow, was a sword. The sword. Shalamayne. 

“You?” Alleria questioned. “How? You’re just a piece of metal.”

“My corruption has given me enough power to reach out to someone other than my king.” The voice sounded a bit more nervous. “Please, listen.”

“I don’t believe you are who you say you are,” Alleria frowned. “But continue.”

“He is not yet gone, and nor am I, but if nothing happens soon, we shall both drown.” The sword spoke. 

“He? Anduin?” Alleria asked. 

“I can be saved, completely, and I believe you can help me.” The sword continued. 

“Why save you when we should be saving Anduin?” Alleria began to circle the sword, holding the bow, pulled more, but cast downward. 

“Our connection is more complex.” It answered her. “He only continues to drown because I’ve taken some of his corruption.”

“So why keep him drowning?” Alleria was confused by the implication he was drowning. 

“The alternative would be drowned. Not drowning.”

“And...what do you want with me?” Alleria asked.

“You and your rangers hold dark magic well, contain it well, have more strength then I.” The sword chimed. “Steal my darkness.”

Alleria growled. “You want me to allow you to corrupt my own people?” 

“They can handle it.”

“How would you know?” Alleria shook her head. “Besides, you’ve yet to prove yourself trustworthy. Your request only serves the doubt.”

“I can only prove to be half of who I am.”

“Cut to the chase.” 

“Ellemayne has fallen.” The voice began to rush. “We run out of time, please, help me.”

“And you are ...Shalla'tor?” 

“Correct.”

Alleria couldn’t understand how half of Shalamayne was speaking to her, and though she wanted to believe the voice to be true, it still felt wrong. Shalamayne was together, no longer torn apart into two as she’d last been at the Broken Shore. She was locked away, together.   
Alleria also didn’t know too much about the halves of Shalamayne, but what she had heard in stories was that Ellemayne belonged to the half of Varian that was more royal, but also much easier to misguide. That Varian had fallen to Onxyia’s charm, and it hurt Stormwind dearly. Shalla’tor on the other hand belonged to Lo’Gosh. Alleria wasn’t sure about Lo’Gosh’s past with corruption and charm, but heard he’d been the first to break free of the cloud the dragon had placed in his mind. 

“You’ve still yet to prove yourself true.” Alleria frowned. 

“Fine, do not believe me, but please, if you don’t uncorrupt Ellemayne, then break us apart.” 

“Break you?” Alleria was again taken back. 

“Break us apart.” the voice repeated. 

“But only the king can do that. Or, you can break yourself apart?”

“Don’t let him find me. Break us apart. Quickly.”

“Why come to me now when you could have come to me before the maid died!?” Alleria shouted. 

“Quickly.”

Alleria was a bit upset about the sword not answering her, and before Alleria could continue, the light flickered out, becoming replaced by a darker shadow. The feeling of something being wrong returned to Alleria, stronger, and as she stepped back, she felt water. Water rising. She tried to bubble herself, but the water could not be kept away. 

Just as the water reached her lungs, everything stopped, and she awoke. 

“Lady Windrunner!” 

Alleria first heard the cries of her rangers, then awoke to a coughing fit. 

“She’s awake!” They seemed relieved. 

“My lady, what happened!?”

Alleria waited a second, taking in her surroundings. She was laid down in grass, surrounded by at least six rangers, including the two that were originally with her. Maybe they called for help?

“I...I don’t know.” Alleria tried to remember what happened before this...this dream occurred. 

“You just, you froze, still, we were so worried.” One ranger explained. “Then when you fell, we got help.”

One of the elves, whom seemed to be a priest of some kind, knelt down beside Alleria. 

“They asked for me to see to you, my lady.” She said. “I do not believe you are sick.”

Alleria shook her head, sitting up. “I am fine, but thank you.” Though, she did have a bit of a headache. 

“Shall we return to Stormwind, my lady?” One of the rangers asked. 

“No.” Alleria began to stand up. “We aren't done here.”

They watched as Alleria grabbed her things, preparing her bow, then turned to look at the City of Gilneas. 

“My lady?” One ranger asked, called out, as Alleria started walking back towards the city. 

“Stay close!” She shouted back, and the rest of the rangers, as well as the priest, rushed to catch up with their leader.

-...-

Genn sat, alone, within the remnants of the Greymane Manor. It’d been difficult to get there, the road leading to it gone, but he had to return. Everything felt so cold, empty, almost haunted. 

He reflected back on the whispers of the corrupted sword. The promises Shalamayne had given him. How everything she showed him, told him, was exactly what he wanted. 

He wondered, now, what the corruption had told Anduin. The old god probably promised the boy a world of peace. No war. No genocide. Something about the Horde and Alliance becoming allies. Genn didn’t blame Anduin for listening to those fruitless promises. Didn’t blame him for considering them, if he had. Genn didn’t, however, completely believe that promises alone lead to Anduin’s corruption. Anduin was stronger than that, if not physically, then mentally. 

Genn also wondered about Anduin’s mental health. Genn knew of and had dealt with sadness and depression before, but nothing like Anduin was dealing with. Or, what Genn thought Anduin may have been dealing with. He’d probably never truly know how bad this was for him, the boy refused to speak about it for very long. 

He sighed, standing from his lone seat, gazing at the manor again. No, as soon as possible, Genn would find help for Anduin. If Anduin was to beat this corruption, escape the grasp of an old god, then he would need more than just the light, more than just a cell. It seemed, if you asked Genn, the light had failed him. Genn was not going to let Anduin drown because of it.

-...-

“Welcome to my cage, little lover.” 

That was all she said to him this time.

She no longer cried. 

-...-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've planned more of the story out so I have something to follow as I continue with these chapters. I hope you continue to enjoy. please comment your thoughts! 
> 
> On a side note, "Little Poor Me" by LAYTO is also a good song for this fic.   
> I may be sharing songs in these notes, they are helping me a l o t with planning and writing.


	4. Shaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gulped, holding the dagger as if he intended on using it.

-...-

Since the start of the war against the Horde, against Sylvanas, Stormwind has suffered greatly in terms of resources and military. At one point the city was guarded only by a stretched out royal guard. The guards only trained to protect the crown, not thousands of citizens. Since Darkshore was secured, some of the Night elven soldiers returned to aid in guarding the city. No matter the anger Tyrande had for Anduin’s inability to give aid, he’d given her people his city. His city was home to the night elves and the worgen, no longer Teldrassil. Stormwind could not fall. There was too much at stake.   
Since Anduin was taken to the Exodar almost two days ago, Stormwind’s government has been trying to fill his place. There was no one left in place to continue the king’s paperwork, or to respond to his letters, because the last person Anduin had pointed out as a replacement was Genn. Genn was not there either. Some stuff would end up being unattended to.   
It was also important to note that there wasn’t a day Anduin didn’t walk his own streets, greeting people, checking in on others, enjoying the breeze. This was something Prince Anduin did all the time, and King Anduin would fight tooth and nail to fit his walks into his schedule. No matter his pain and aches from the bell. No matter the weather. So to say that the people of Stormwind were worried when they hadn’t seen or heard from their young king in the short time he’s been gone was an understatement. Combine that with the shadows erupting from the keep the other day and you’ve got a thick cloud of nervousness and confusion controlling Stormwind’s people. Many people try to visit the keep, seek an audience with the king, but no one would actually see the king. No one was telling them anything. 

Mathias Shaw sighed, a headache pounding in his head. Since the spew of dark magic there has yet to be a second of peace for the spymaster. Calming citizens was difficult, but there was nothing more difficult then trying to decide what needs to happen next. How do you protect a city of thousands from an old god? You don’t. That wouldn’t keep Shaw from trying to attempt the impossible. 

“Spymaster.” A voice spoke and Shaw looked up from his work to see a night elf, one of his own top spies, walking in. 

“Rayla,” Shaw greeted in return, “What is it?”

“I’ve received reports of someone within the keep. I’ve not been able to see for myself, but a guard reported seeing...” 

“Yes..?” Shaw eyed her.

“I can’t really be sure, the guard seemed frantic. It was that Greyward boy. He sees things all the time and,” Rayla thought aloud. “He claimed he’d seen the king, but that can’t be possib-”

“Lead the way.” Shaw stood from his desk, immediately placing all attention to this guard’s claim. 

The night elf tried to keep up with the spymaster, but it seemed he was leading the way himself. She herself felt unsure of this claim, there was only one guard who approached her, and he alone had a reputation for...for not being completely trustworthy. He claims he sees things all the time. And it didn’t seem too far off that he’d be the only one to see anything, besides the last point, the keep felt more empty recently. 

“Spymaster Shaw!” 

The guard, “that Greyward boy”, met Shaw as they walked into the keep, towards the throne room. As they walked on, quickly, Shaw questioned him.

“What did you see?” 

“I saw the king! I swear on me life, sir!”

“Where did you see the king?”

“He was walking the hallway, don’t know where he was goin’.”

Rayla butt in, “Greyward said he saw shadow magic as well.”

“I did!”

They rounded a corner, looking down a long hallway, large stained windows letting colorful light onto the floor and walls. Shaw didn’t see the king, no, but along with the colorful light, there were spots of purple trailing to the other side of the hallway. Shaw knelt down beside one of the drops, examining it. Didn’t take long for him to guess what it was. Corruption. Small seeds of corruption, that while it didn’t look like it, were slowly expanding. Now they looked like someone stepped on blueberries, but soon they could take over the entire hallway. 

“Greyward, find a priest to contain these,” Shaw sent the guard away, “Rayla, with me.”

Shaw stelthed, Rayla following suit, the two making their way down the hallway, following the trail. Turning the corner, half way down the hallway, the drops turned into a room. Specifically, the king’s office. Shaw could hear someone in there, moving things, possibly throwing things. Cautiously, Shaw prepared to turn into the room, his heart pounding, because though he was no man of fear, he had no idea how to deal with the corruption of an old god. He knew priests could contain it somewhat, but what could a rogue do but fight it?  
The moment Shaw, still stealthed, entered the king’s office, he found himself frozen, a force crushing his neck. He’d been spotted by their corrupt king, and their corrupt king was cutting off his breathing. 

“Took awhile,” The king said, his arm raised in casting his spell. “Where is it?”

“Master Shaw!” 

Rayla threw herself at the king, knocking him off his concentration, letting Shaw go. Shaw regained composure, seeing the corrupt king pinning the night elf against the wall, corruption seeping from his hold. Shaw leaped over, his blades out, aiming to one way or another free his companion. 

“Where is it, Shaw!” The king yelled, the blades scraping at his arms, however the cuts bringing no pain to the king. At least, nothing visible. 

The king shoved the night elf to the side, leaving spots of corruption to spread onto her. The king and spymaster struggled against each other, but Shaw knew well this fight was not equal. The king was looking for something and his corruption would easily take both of the spies out as soon as the king wanted it too. Why the king held back his own power, no one really knew, but Shaw was at least grateful for that. 

“My sword, she was here!” The king yelled, grunting as blades continued to slice into his body. Though Shaw thought he may have seen blood, there still was no reaction. 

“Answer me!” The king grabbed ahold of Shaw’s neck, both hands, staring into Shaw’s eyes. Corruption spread from the king’s grasp.

In that moment, Shaw felt something he’d not felt before, at least in awhile. Like there was water in his lungs, like he was drowning. But he wasn’t. He could hear voices call his name, voices that sounded familiar. Whispers of promises, things Shaw could only dream for. As Shaw struggled to break free, he could see the face of his king, his sweet, peace loving, hope filled, young, caring king. The grin on his face, the glare from his eyes, the shadows that surrounded him. Behind him Shaw could see the room a mess. Everything torn apart. The painted portrait of the late high king Varian Wrynn was destroyed. 

“W-why-” Shaw heard himself gasp for air, unsure what he was even saying. Why what? Why are you doing this? Why do you want your sword? Why did you fall to the old god? Why would you kill me? 

“WHY IS SHALAMAYNE GONE?!” The king shouted at him, the whispers getting louder. 

Shaw’s arms began to shake. He’d never thought that the one to overpower him was the Wrynn boy. Shaw could remember the king’s coronation, his stressful adventures away from home, his kindness, his smile. Shaw could remember the boy as a small child as well as a tiny baby. He couldn’t remember exactly how old, but Shaw has at some point held the young child. In that moment Shaw had sworn to himself he would die for that child. Well, the job implied that, but there was a difference.   
Shaw’s vision began to falter. The feeling of drowning growing, the sound of an ocean appearing in the distance. In the falter, a darkness. Shaw saw himself, remembered himself, and how he got to this point. Everything he’d given up, his family had given. His mother, his grandmother, both dying for their kingdom. Shaw remembered his old friendship with Edwin Vancleef, how Shaw had even taught the man everything he knew. How that would come back against him in the form of a revolt against the king. Shaw remembered the legion invasion, remembered how they had tried to use him to assassinate the king. The king, who no matter what, trusted Shaw with his life. Trusted him with his most personal secrets.

Anduin Wrynn trusted him. 

“AaAGH!” A painful yell came from behind the king, and the night elf, Rayla, clawed at the king, using her own corrupted arm against him. 

Shaw was only dropped when Rayla shoved her own two daggers deep into the king’s side, drawing more than just a bit of blood. 

“F...Forgive me,” Ralya struggled to contain herself, the corruption nearly consuming her. She had very little time left. “Your majesty.” 

Shaw gasped for air, taking longer then he wanted to properly get back to his feet. He heard the night elf’s screams as the corrupted king turned his attentions to her, leaving the daggers in his own side. This was his moment. Rayla would fall. Shaw made a break for the doorway, sloppily slipping into stealth. If the king had noticed, which he surely did, he made no attempt to stop the spymaster. As soon as Shaw saw a group of priests in the hallway, containing the corruption, he dropped out of stealth.

“S-Shaw!?” One of them gasped, two running over to his side. 

Corruption from the king’s hold remained on the spymaster’s neck, but now that the priests could assist to him, he may have a chance. And, to be truthful, if he were to fall to the corruption, the whispers of the old god sounded so...so...magnificent. 

-...-

In his dreams, the same darkness, the same feeling of drowning, and the same whispers. Same promises. But it wasn’t the king’s grip that was giving him all this. 

“Help!!”

Shaw turned around, looking around for any sign of where that voice came from. He knew that voice. He was sure he did. It took Shaw a few seconds of looking desperately around at nothingness that he finally found it. Found him. 

“hELP ME!” A scream from a child. 

Shaw ran towards the child, the young teenager Prince Anduin. He looked scared. Terrified. In his hands a dagger. A strange dagger, one Shaw thinks he may have seen the priest champion wielding some time ago. The kid shook, staring past Shaw, like he couldn’t even see the man. 

The prince stepped back, almost tumbled. His grip on the blade tightened. A death grip. 

“T-they can’t-” The prince began to sob. “I’m alone.” 

“Anduin.” Shaw spoke, trying to reach out to the child, receiving no reaction. 

The prince turned around, looking into the darkness, wiping away his tears, but still clearly crying. He gulped, holding the dagger as if he intended on using it. 

“I..I can do this.” The child whispered to himself. “I will do this.” 

“Anduin!” Shaw called out when the child broke into a sprint, running into the darkness, disappearing. 

“S-shaw?!”

A soft, surprised gasp came from behind the man. Shaw turned around, the sudden feeling of water forced into his lungs bringing great pain to the man. Water. Drowning. That was all he felt now. 

It was...Anduin? King Anduin? Beside him, an elf. Someone Shaw didn’t recognize. 

“M-my King?” Shaw found it difficult to speak while drowning. 

“How...how are you here?” Anduin was wide eyed, floating in the sea of darkness, yet speaking perfectly fine. Anduin tried to reach out to Shaw, as if he didn’t believe he was there. 

Shaw shook his head, he had no idea how to respond. This vision made no sense. This dream hurt too much. 

“Shaw, I’m so sorry, I-” Anduin tried to place his hand on the man’s shoulder, but his hand went through. 

Anduin looked saddened. 

“You arn’t..here...Shaw I-.” Anduin’s words began to sound distant, and as the elf woman said something, Shaw realized he couldn’t hear it. Just waves. The sea. 

Then darkness. 

-...-

Tyrande Whisperwind was walking around the city, checking on supplies, the citizens, the guards. Along with her, Mia Greymane. Though the two talked a bit, and have talked greatly before, enjoying each others’ discussions, this time it was different. The breeze was about all that was comfortable. Everything else was uncomfortable silent. The citizens gave them glances, some smiled at them, bowed their heads, but the two could see the uneasiness. 

“Tyrande?” Mia asked after a while, the two standing before the docks. 

“Yes?” 

Mia paused. “Have you ...have you seen anything like this before?”

“This?” Tyrande asked. 

“Corruption. Specifically of an old god.” Mia answered. “I know nothing of the subject, never thought I would need to.” 

“Yes...yes I have seen this before.” Tyrande frowned. “It did ...not turn out well.”

“Hmm.” Mia looked down at the boats, the people working on the dock, moving resources, gearing ships. One of those ships, the newest edition, and possibly the most powerful of them all, a Kul Tiran ship. A gift to the king. Tiffin’s Melody. 

“That does not mean this will end the same, of course.” Tyrande said, only to comfort the elderly woman. 

“I know…” Mia sighed. “Don’t know why I asked, I don’t like hearing of such horrible things. I used to be okay with it. But recently i’ve grown to worry greatly. So much so that Genn has stopped telling me some parts of his travels.”

Tyrande glanced at the woman. 

“I am happy he tries to help, love him for it, but I think i’ve come to the conclusion not knowing is worse.” 

Tyrande understood.

“The difference this time, Mia, is that Azshara was selfish. Selfish in life as in death. She worked with more than just an old god. She had vile plans long before N’zoth got to her.”

“I..” Mia turned to Tyrande, “I see.”

“The difference this time, too, is that there are no waves to drown this city.” Tyrande continued, not convinced herself that this time was that different from the last, but wanted to calm Mia. This time, there were waves, but not real waves. There was Sylvanas. She’d yet to threaten Stormwind specifically, but they all knew just how much the woman would love to blight it all. 

The difference this time was that the old god was free. Free and apparently tired of Azshara. Tyrande couldn’t think of any reason why the god would turn to Anduin Wrynn, but surprises happen. The boy was more powerful than anyone wanted to admit. But that power was usually light based. 

“High Priestess!” A call came from behind them, the two turning to see a few guards running towards them. 

“Yes?” Tyrande frowned, picking up on their panic. 

“The king has been spotted in the keep! Master Shaw has been attacked, another dead!” 

Tyrande frowned. She immediately left Mia Greymane, following the guards to the keep. One stayed behind, turning to Mia. 

“My lady,” The guard began. 

“Take me to Shaw.” Mia spoke. 

“B-but my lady, he’s been corrupted.” The guard stuttered. 

“Please, I must see this corruption for myself.” The woman replied and the guard nodded. 

Down below, standing up top the decks of Tiffin’s Melody, was Jaina Proudmoore. She frowned, noticing the guards and Mia and Tyrande. 

An ache came from within. Looking down, she took hold of her necklace. The pendent shined in what light there was. The clouds still heavy. The breeze shifting. 

All around her, drowning out the sounds of the dock, were the crash of the waves against stone. 

-...-

“Sweep the Keep. Search every street. If he is still here we’re all in danger!” Tyrande commanded the guards, watching them run off to do as they were told. 

The high priestess turned, looking at the mess of the king’s office. Everything was destroyed. Corruption everywhere, but priests trying their best to contain it. Blood stained the floor. A corpse lay to the side. A young night elf rogue, her blades missing. Another death to the king’s hands. 

Tyrande found herself growl at the sight. She didn’t want to admit it, think about it, but if this didn’t stop, then to hell with uncorrupting the king. The longer they waited, the more they failed, the stronger he would grow. She’d seen this all before. She will not allow it to happen again. 

Elune have mercy on his soul.

-...-

“He….he’s gone.”

The elf shook her head slowly. 

“You will learn in time there are no friends here.”

The human frowned, unconsciously placing a hand to his side, feeling for a wound that was not there. 

“But, he saw me too. He wasn’t a hallucination. I know it.”

There was a sharp pain in his side, he found, but nothing to show for it. 

“I envy your hope, dear sea lion.” 

-...-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter then I like, but I think the next will be longer. You need to set the stage, you know? Again, thank you for reading, and for any comments you have. <3
> 
> As for your song of the chapter, I suggest "Deep End" by Ruelle.


	5. Proudmoore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I had no idea I hurt you, If I had-”
> 
> “Of course you didn’t.”

-...-

All around her, drowning out the sounds of the dock, were the crash of waves against stone.

“Auntie”

Jaina gasped, quickly turning around, the deck of Tiffin’s Melody creaking. Before her stood the king. He smiled at her angrily. A fear rocked the mage’s heart, but she would not allow herself to falter. 

“Anduin.” Jaina frowned, calling a spike of ice to the palm of her hand, preparing for anything. 

“Answer me truthfully and you will be spared from N’zoth’s will for now.” Anduin growled. “Where is Shalamayne?”

Jaina’s heart raced. How had he escaped the Exodar? Velen was watching him! He’d been left guarded by so many, left under the lock and key of the light! It was likely that this moment wouldn’t provide answers, Jaina had to survive the king’s powers. 

“It would be wise to give up looking.” Jaina replied. “You’re too dangerous alone.”

The king huffed. “I enjoy the admit to fear, truly, but my patience is thinning.”

“Anduin, your patience has always been one of your greatest strengths. Don’t let N’zoth steal what made you a good king!” Jaina shouted, remembering how to push back against the corrupted King. Apparently belittling him and bringing up Anduin’s own worries was a decent attack. 

The king stepped closer to her, causing Jaina to flinch and cast ice at his feet, keeping him still.

“Ah…” The king smirked. “I remember you being one of the greatest mages on Azeroth. what happened?”

Jaina glared at him. “Fear does not make people weak.”

“Sure, sure,” The King rolled his eyes. “Believe what makes you sleep better at night.”

The king’s eyes met Jaina’s. 

“Or, believe what helps you cope with your past mistakes.”

“What are you playing at, child?” Jaina growled. 

“If fear does not make people weak then how do you explain yourself?” The king shifted, the ice at his feet breaking. “You’ve allowed fear to make you weak, allowed it to accept your fate of death at the hands of your own mother. You did nothing to escape from imprisonment. You wanted that execution just as badly as Saurfang craves his own.”

Jaina was taken back. How’d he know all of this? There was no way he’d understand her own intentions. What she meant when she said that she accepted the judgement of her mother. The fear that took hold of her as she sat alone within her own memories. How that fear made her stronger. In the end, she’s never felt so powerful. So important. 

“You don’t know anything you talk about, Anduin. Nothing is that simple.” Jaina shook her head. “If you wish to play this game though, know I know exactly what makes you-”

“Past me means nothing. N’zoth has erased all my flaws.” The king stopped her

The king broke the ice at his feet, pulling shadow magic from nowhere to form around him. Jaina created more ice spikes, attacking first, throwing them at the king’s shadows. The shadows devoured the attacks and Jaina found the King attempting to attack her mind with the shadows. 

“Stop it!” Jaina yelled, shielding herself in arcane magic, pushing away the shadows. “Give me back my nephew!” 

Reaching within, using her energy, she created large, blinding bolts of arcane. Her hands shook as they controlled the magic, wanting to hold them and search for the right moment to strike, but there was no right moment. As soon as she could, she threw her spells at him. She continued, after that, to summon and cast forward arcane and frost weapons. The shadows moved, danced, reacted to the attacks, but Jaina couldn’t judge how well the king was taking them. She just wanted this corruption to die, no matter how much mana she’d need. 

“Come on, now.” The voice of the king echoed in her mind, and suddenly, she couldn’t cast anymore. Her mana wasn’t drained, there was just..nothing responding to her calls. The shadows wrapped around her suddenly, though no corruption spread upon her. 

The king stepped up to her. 

“I will find out where Shalamayne is, one way or another.” He growled, searching her mind. 

“No!” Jaina gasped out, struggling. 

A darkness traced around her vision. An ache pounded in her chest. Arms shook as she tried to escape his grasp, but they failed as the sense of water flooded her lungs. She could hear the waves crashing louder and louder. She knew the sea well but this ocean in her lungs, surrounding her, was foreign and cold. 

“Where is the sword, Jaina?” A voice, familiar, haunting, asked her. 

Jaina would not cry, she’d long got passed this, she’d found her peace. But now? These shadows dug back out all her mended feelings. The forgiveness she gave herself. 

“Stop it-” She gasped, seeing nothing but ocean. “Arthas bothers me, n, no more, Anduin.”

A wave crashed. Thunder brewed. 

“I can find Shalamayne, easy.” Another voice, another friend from the past, long dead. “If you wish not to answer, your memories will hold the key.”

Jaina thrashed against the forced that held her back. 

“Your threats mean nothing to me!” She screamed. “I’ve forgiven myself!”

“The sword, Jaina!” The voice of a king long gone. 

Jaina shook her head. “You need to forgive yourself, Anduin! Your fears don’t make you weak, you know that! You can break free of this corruption!”

“ThE SWORD!” A monsterly bark, stinging Jaina’s ears. 

“FORGIVE YOURSELF!” She yelled back as loud as she could. She kicked at the shadows, the water, the darkness. 

“I CAN’T!”

Jaina fell from the shadow’s grasp, the darkness and water not leaving her, but a breath of air giving her temporary aid. Jaina looked around frantically, not on the boat anymore. The king nowhere in sight. 

“I can’t forgive myself, Jaina!” A broken cry rang in her ears and she found him. 

Anduin. 

“I can help you, plea-” She reached out to him. 

“NO!” He shouted back, a wave of dark energy pushing her back. “How can you help me when you’ve done nothing but abandoned me!?”

“Anduin, I would never.” 

“But you did!” He continued. “When you accepted your fate in Kul Tiras you accepted everything that would come of your impending death! You accepted abandoning me!”

“No! That's not wha-”

“When I found out, Auntie, I remembered everything I had ever told you. All the times I cried on your shoulder! What did it mean to you when I told you you were my only family left. My father died and all I had was you, but you weren’t there!” 

“No, Anduin-”

“Now we’re in a time of war, a time that I need you most, a time where my life depends on those I can trust, and you just, just are okay?! wITH DYING!?”

Jaina felt tears fall into the darkness below. 

“I had no idea, I’m so sorry.” She cried. 

“And NOW you want to help me?!” He too cried.

“I had no idea I hurt you, If I had-”

“Of course you didn’t.” The echo shook with anger. 

“Let me fix this, Please.” Jaina tried to reach out again but felt a power hold her back. He held her back. He denied her help. 

“You can’t. No one can. I’ve drowned.”

“Anduin,” She sobbed. 

“You will too, soon enough.”

The echo faded.

Jaina, on her knees, in tears, sobbing, shaking, and unsure of what just happened, was back on the deck of Tiffin’s Melody. Standing before her, with a shit eating grin, was the corrupted king. He chuckled, getting on a knee, reaching her level. With a gentleness he made her look at him.

“Gilneas, huh?” He purred. “Thank you, ‘Aunt Jaina’.”

A soft, weak “no” escaped her, but it was hardly heard. The king stood back up, walking a few steps away, the creaking of the boards like nails on a chalkboard. Her cries, for a moment, a moment too long, felt louder then the crash of the waves or the thunder in the sky. 

“WRYNN!”

With a gasp, the king was shoved down into the boards of the deck, the boards breaking from the force. His hand reached up just in time to stop a night warrior’s blade. Tyrande pulled her blade away, going for another angle, but the king pushed her away with a force of shadow, the dark purple magic acting as smoke against the deck, reaching up in attempts to contain the high priestess. Tyrande did not stop, ramming at him, unafraid to harm him in an attempt to subdue him. The king stumbled back against the railing of the ship, Tyrande slowly pushing against the king’s strength, the blade inching closer to his face. 

The king shouted, overpowering the warrior and throwing her aside, nearly tripping himself. 

“Tyrande-” Jaina attempted to stand, to aid the night elf in their fight. 

“You!” 

The shadows grabbed ahold of Jaina again, holding her now above the water. The shadows collected around her ankle, a weight slowly growing. 

“I have what I wanted!” He yelled, then let the mage fall into the ocean. 

Tyrande attempted to attack the king again, but with one last look at her, he’d disappeared. The shadows slowly faded, leaving the damaged deck to the light rain falling from the sky. Tyrande growled, angry she’d let him get away. But she could not waste time in her scowling. Abandoning her blade, she jumped the railing, over the side of the ship, into the ocean waves. 

The ocean was quiet despite it’s upset rumble and rock. The sounds of all were distant, harder to hear, as the water entered her ears. As the water entered her mouth,  
her lungs. Jaina felt the words she’d heard in the echoes return. She felt her fears return. She heard whispers and empty promises of everything she could ever want. Theramore back. Anduin back. 

She ached in the words he’d told her. 

She ached knowing that in her quest to reform her family, her mother, brothers, she’d left him behind. She’d forgotten about her Nephew. Forgotten he needed family just as much as she did. 

The shadows pulled her down, keeping her from swimming upward, from escaping this hell. There was nothing she could do. As the air left her completely, her vision failed, and she fought back against the shadows no more.  
A hand grabbed onto her own, tugging her upwards. Tyrande fought her own breath, her own pain, to grab onto the smaller human and pull her back up. Tyrande found the shadows would not let go. Letting go of Jaina with one hand, holding onto her with another, Tyrande called to Elune. Demanded Elune. A blinding spark of moonlight formed in her palm, and with a swift motion, the moon was smiting the shadows, burning them, forcing them to break and run. Once the shadow was not strong enough to overpower Tyrande, the elf pulled Jaina upward, away from the darkness. 

Away from the shadows and away from corruption.

-...-

Alleria and her rangers found themselves stopped a distance before the gates of Gilneas. Appearing before them in a mist of shadow, the corrupted king. All bows were pointed at him as soon as he showed his face. The wind picked up a bit during the build of tension. 

“Look,” Alleria growled, stepping forward. “I don’t know how you got here but you will be leaving with me on my terms.”

The king laughed. “I’m here for the sword, Alleria, nothing else.”

“I know.” Alleria aimed down the king with her bow, one eye closed.

“Good.” The King turned to walk into the city. “Then I trust you know not to stop me.”

Alleria turned to the nearest ranger, silently letting her know they need to stall him. With a nod, the rangers ran forward to distract the king. The king laughed, stopping void arrows from hitting him, turning to face Alleria, only to find she was gone. In a second of hesitation, an arrow impaled in shoulder. Ignoring any pain it may have caused, the king turned his attention to getting rid of the rangers. 

“Stand down, your majesty!” One ranger yelled, casting a spell on their arrow, aiming it at the king. 

When the arrow fired, the arrow hit the king in the arm, a binding of void forming around the king in an attempt to capture him. The king growled, struggling at first, but a burst of dark energy ripped the void binding apart, and the king tore the arrow out of his arm.   
Turning his attention to the rangers again, the king pulled a ball of shadow magic into his hand, choosing one of the rangers, then casting the corruption at the ranger. The ranger was not fast enough, getting hit by the corruption, falling back with a yell. The ranger began to freak out as they found the corruption was slowly consuming them and nothing they could do would stop it. The king, taking their hesitation, cast the same corruption at the other rangers, leaving the lone void elf priest. 

As the void rangers groaned and struggled against the corruption, the king turned to the priest. 

“Looks like they could use your help, priest.”

Leaving the priest, the king turned to continue towards the city. 

-...-

Alleria teleported back down into the room with Shalamayne. If the king knows that Shalamayne is in Gilneas then they have only moments to move the sword away. Her sudden appearance startled her two rangers guarding the door, watching her as she ran into the room.

“How quickly can you get the sword somewhere else!?” Alleria almost barked at the mage guards.. 

“N-Now?!” One of them asked, worried, glancing at her fellow mages. 

“Yes! He’s here! You must move quickly!” Alleria said, readying her bow, turning to her rangers. “Be prepared!”

“Yes, my lady!” The rangers nodded and readied their own weapons. 

The mages scrambled to summon a portal and unbind the sword to the table. While they could carry it out in it’s arcane cell, one or two spells kept the cell attached to the table. Two of the mage guards whispered to each other as they unbound the cell, Alleria being able to just feel their worry and fear. 

Things were almost too silent as they waited, Alleria unsure of just how long her own rangers could keep the king at bay. She didn’t want to abandon them with him, but the sword’s safety was more important. Alleria listened closely, hoping to be able to detect the king before he arrives. All she heard was the rushed work of the mage lifting the cell off the table. 

“Okay,” One of the mages at the portal spoke, “I have a portal set to-”

A spear made of shadows appeared out of nowhere, impaling one of the void rangers, pinning her to the wall, before slowly corrupting her. 

“GO! NOW!” Alleria yelled to the mage guards, firing her own bow out into the shadows that formed outside the room. 

“NO!” 

The king appeared out of a cloud of shadows, attempting to down the second ranger to get into the room. An arrow made it into his side, but the ranger was down seconds later. Alleria rammed her side into the king, throwing him back before he could get past her to the mages. As the king fell back against the floor, Alleria could see the large cuts in his side, a pair of SI:7 blades still left there as if the king had forgotten them. There were other cuts around his body, some very clearly from her rangers’ arrows. For a moment Alleria worried about her rangers left behind, but knew she didn’t have much time to spend thinking of them. 

The King used his shadows to push past Alleria, aiming to stop the mage holding the cell. The mage standing beside that one saw the king coming for them, quickly casting a barrier around their friend. Alleria pulled out a blade from her belt and leapt at the king to pull him back from the mage, the two struggling to overpower each other. Alleria could hear a small hum as each mage walked through the portal, each hum making the king fight harder.   
Alleria felt a hand grab at her hair, another trying to wrestle the blade from her, pain ripping through her body. The king was slowly gaining power over her and without allies Alleria knew she would be left in great danger. She’d have to escape. Reaching for the void, Alleria summoned a portal below the king, a string of words coming from her that were not in common.

“What are you-?!”

As the void portal formed, it swallowed the king, whom was about to bring Alleria with him, but Alleria cut the spell, hair pulled from her head, but the king disappeared along through the portal. 

“Lady Alleria! Hurry!” The only mage left helped Alleria up. 

The two rushed into the mage portal, the portal humming before closing a few seconds later. 

-...-

On his walk back to the city, Genn did not expect to come across anyone at all. He’d expected to enjoy his last moments alone before returning to Stormwind. As he exited the forest, the city’s walls coming into view, he found a group of rangers, along with a lone priest. Walking just a bit faster, he approached the priest, who was on her knees beside one of the rangers. The only ranger not completely engulfed in corruption.

“What happened here!?” Genn asked.

Genn watched as the priest finished casting a spell, the moaning and groaning from the ranger below them suddenly going silent. The priest then sighed, slowly standing up to turn to meet Genn.

“My powers alone,” She shook, “I couldn’t save them. I had to...to put them down before they turned on me.”

“What happened?” Genn wanted to growl, but saw the young elf was traumatized. 

“The King, he’s here. Alleria went on to protect the sword, but he’s gone after her.” The priest replied. 

“Go home!” Genn ordered before turning to run into the city. 

“But sir-!”

Suddenly a ray of shadow magic exploded from the center of the city, stopping Genn in his tracks. The two looked on in horror as the ray grew, an awful hum emitting from it, until suddenly the ray collapsed in on itself. The priest gasped, running towards Genn, summoning a shield of void around them. Just as the shield appeared, the shadow magic exploded, the range much larger, the damage but bigger. The two flinched, struggling to stand as the earth below them rocked, the shield protecting them from the blast, shockwave, and debris.

As the dust fell, the shield faltered, and Genn ran forward, his breath caught in his throat. The priest tried to follow, but could only watch. 

“No…”

As Genn walked through the gates of his city, he felt sick. His knees buckled, and he fell to the dirt. 

The king stood in the middle of the city, before disappearing in a cloud of shadow, leaving behind nothing. No buildings, no trees, no life. 

Gilneas was nothing but a crater.

-...-

It seemed the longer he existed in this dark sea, the more his body ached. His sides burned, but now his shoulders and arms felt as if they’d been shot by arrows. A headache began to form in his head, and he couldn’t help but groan. 

“Ignore it, sea lion.” The elf frowned. 

“Ignore it?” Anduin glanced at her. “There’s nothing else to focus on.”

The elf sighed, turning towards Anduin, reaching out to grab his face. She narrowed her eyes, Anduin caught off guard, confused as to why it looked like she was searching for something. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“Shh.”

Her eyes glowed a bright orange and red, echoing the glow of the eyes of N’zoth. Anduin felt his heart race as he stared into her eyes, watching as she continued for a little longer then felt comfortable, before the glow went away. 

“There.”

“What...what was that?” 

“Your headache.” She answered.

Anduin paused, putting his hand up to his head as the elf let go of him. The headache cooled, no longer bothering him anymore. Though he could still feel the cuts on his body, they didn’t ache like before. 

“How?” He looked back up to the elf. 

“As long as we are here, N’zoth’s power runs through us.” She answered. “You can use it.”

Anduin frowned, shaking his head. “No! I won’t accept his power!”

The elf huffed. “If you wish, but know it will eventually be the only thing that keeps you from insanity.”

“No! I can make it through this without his aid!” Anduin shouted.

As the aches returned to him, he watched the elf turn her back to him. 

“Fine...you choose the way you fall, sea lion.”

-...-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Half god, Half devil" by In This Moment. Reminds me more of Hearthstone Anduin but it still works here I think.


End file.
